Devils Don't Fly
by Ruth Lechner
Summary: Harriet is a strange sort of girl, and an enigma to Pan. A bit of everything - Mystery, Adventure, Romance, Angst, Suspense, amusement. Complicated plot line/story line/character relationships. M themes. I update frequently. Pan/OC
1. Pilot

The figure sputtered and coughed as they lay on the shore of a beach. In dark clothes soaked to the bone, the figure spat out water, hearing eerie, echoing, rolling whispers coming from behind them. The figure dragged themselves out of the lapping waves more, hoping to dry themselves quickly in the air. They heard feminine giggles from behind, from the sea.

The figure's coughs paused as they inhaled, then they began to cough again as they dragged themselves upright. In the corner of their eye they saw something that made them turn quickly in fright towards the sea.

There, beautiful, giggling women danced in the waves of the sea. Flashes of blue green tails could be seen from above the water moving fluidly.

They were speaking to the figure on the beach, cooing, simpering and calling in their eerie language that held a haunting beauty.

The figure pulled themselves up more and away from the water, pulling themselves out completely. They panted, looking at their legs then at the forest behind them.

Their limbs were shaking from cold and fatigue as they slowly stood, turning from the wailing creatures in the sea. They scanned the canopy of verdant green trees and brush, and began their walking, disappearing into the line of forest.


	2. S1E1

Pan looked up in surprise but a second later it turned into a smirk.

"We have a new arrival." He stood from where he was sharpening some spears, Felix next to him.

The Lost Boys stopped what they were doing to look up at Pan and await instruction.

"Boys… let's have some fun!"

The Lost Boys cheered as Pan smirked and turned from the camp to gaze at the forest.

* * *

The figure walked around on their own along narrow dirt paths that were lined with green plants at all levels high. The forest was dense and so far there were no hills or trees with limbs low enough they could climb to get a sense of where they were.

They were alone for five minutes before they were being tailed. The figure rolled their eyes and worked to lose them. After a while, it worked. The sun set and the night rolled into the sky.

The figure took refuge under a tree and seated themselves into a comfortable groove against the bark. They had more protection against this tree than against any other tree, less likely to be seen if someone walked along on the dirt paths. Someone would have to be seeking them to find them. Still, they did not sleep. They looked out into the forest, ears keen on every sound of the forest. Their clothes had dried long ago, but it was now dry with salt and itchy on their skin. They tried to get comfortable and remain alert. The person who had been tailing them could come out any second.

* * *

The figure opened their eyes. The eyes opposite theirs widened in fright and the figure heard a gasp.

"You can sense me?" whispered the girl, reading the blank face in curiosity and some confusion.

Tinker Bell realized she must have been in the figure's face too long because a hand came up and squished against her dirt smeared face to push her away from their personal space. Tinkerbell stumbled into a defensive standing position as the figure previously leaning against a tree near her hideout stood up. They stood tall, seemingly disregarding the dagger Tinker Bell procured in a flash.

"What – you don't think I'll kill you?" challenged Tinker Bell.

"If you were going to, you would have done it when I was asleep." came the calm, deadpan reply. The figure stood with confidence. Tinkerbell shifted her weight, cautious. "What's the matter? Am I in your territory or something?" There was no hint of taunting or sarcasm in the somber, soothing voice, so Tinker Bell lowered her dagger a little, then when she realized it was so she raised it again with more resolve.

"Are you with Pan?"

No response. Tinker Bell's breath shakily rang out.

"Are you running from him?"

A slow nod.

Tinker Bell shifted her eyes nervously around.

"Don't stay in one place too long." She clutched her bag of supplies she'd been hunting for to her chest and the petite girl turned around, shaking her head in indication to follow.

* * *

Tinker Bell stared at her new guest. The hood was off, and her guest was eating quietly with their back to her. The ex-fairy stared for a moment longer before she went to put her supplies away on a makeshift shelf she'd made. The trip to her hut had been a quiet one. The girl that was eating knew how to be stealthy. When Tinker Bell had first seen her when she was gathering supplies and tracked her, she'd somehow managed to lose her. When they walked back to her hut she couldn't hear the girl's footsteps, and had to look back to make sure she was still there.

Tinker Bell came back and walked in front of the quietly eating form, deciding to sit on a stone she usually used as a cutting table. She stared at the form. Tinker Bell could see a pale face was downcast upon the food, completely focused on eating.

"Are you from the Enchanted Forest?" She asked, breaking the silence.

The guest's eyes raised to Tinker Bell. Then they went back to her food, the spoon scraping against the bowl.

"From somewhere else?" Tinker Bell tried again, folding her arms. "Pan brings them from all the realms, these days…"

The person blinked at their food.

"The Enchanted Forest, I believe it's called, yes." They said softly, focused on eating every morsel of food in the bowl there was.

"You _believe _it's called? What, you don't know the name of your own land?" asked Tinker Bell incredulously. The person looked up, eyes slightly narrowed and tone slightly darker.

"Well, I don't pay attention to names or titles all that much." She seemed satisfied with that, and decided to change topic.

"Well, m'name's Tink, Tinker Bell." The ex-fairy grinned shyly, her hands on the boulder on either side of her. Her glamor slowed when she realized she was about to introduce herself as a fairy.

The unhooded figure looked up again to give her eye contact, and was quiet like they weren't expecting an introduction, and nodded, finishing their food. They stood with her bowl and Tink took it from them with an 'I'll get that'.

When Tink stood up, the person looked around the hut, the petite blonde seeing them do so in the corner of her eye.

"It's not much," Tinker Bell said, the pottery clanging against her other bowls to be washed when she went to the river. "but you take what you can in Neverland." She grinned, rolling up her dark green tomboyish sleeves and folding her arms, surveying the figure who was staring back at her. "You must be important to Pan if he brought you here." She said before they could reply.

The guest lowered their eyes. "Hm."

"You must've caught his eye."

"Must've." They agreed, uncaring. "What does he do to the people he brings here?"

"Well for starters," Tinker Bell started to laugh. "They're always boys. The shadow tries not to bring girls. Sometimes they slip through. He captures them and they become his Lost Boys. But don't worry, I'll try not to let that happen to you."

Tinker Bell surveyed her guest. For the first time that night their eyes were on her own without answering to a question. If the information interested them, the person didn't show it.

"I can buy you a few days, at the most. But he probably already knows you're here. He sees everything that happens on the island. I'll give you some advice, since you're new here. Neverland is a magical realm that works on imagination. If you can see it and believe it, it will happen. But the main rule is, nothing happens without Pan's permission. You cannot get off the island without his permission… For now, you can sleep here, I'll give you some of my clothes to change into."

"Thank you for your kindness."


	3. S1E2

A/N: Everything up until now has been K

Warning: Things get a little **PG-13** in this chapter ONLY in the first scene. The material is inappropriate for pre-teenagers. Depiction of violence and suggested abuse towards women, although brief. It still warrants this rating.

* * *

Around a glowing campfire, drunken laughter sounded from a gang of men. They were middle aged, dressed in rags and gulping from bottles like fish.

Tossed between them was a woman. The men cat called and wolf whistled at her, rowdy laughter filling the forest.

Off to the side of the camp sat a girl, untouched. Chains led from her wrists to the tree. They wouldn't touch her – waiting until she was older, more like her mother. She was cold, did not look, did not flinch, as they tossed her mother around.

* * *

Harriet spent the night worried. She knew intellectually that sleep would aid her the following day for the unknowns that lay ahead of Tinker Bell's hut, but a twinge of worry still continued inside of her as she lay down on the blanket on the floor that Tinker Bell had kindly procured for her. She didn't mind sleeping on the floor – it was similar to home.

Harriet couldn't understand how she had gotten here – this place, Neverland. She had immediately wondered if the kids had found a way to send her away for good – magic bean, maybe, or perhaps a mirror. She wondered if they'd found her in her sleep and sent her here, to this strange island, where Tinker Bell didn't seem to know about her or who she was. If that was so, then how did the kids know the place they sent her to? If they had indeed, done so? It was all so odd. But the ends weren't meeting, and Harriet wouldn't worry about a puzzle where she didn't have all the pieces yet, and she turned on her side, trying to sleep.

* * *

"Ah'm going out – gettin' more supplies. Didn't exactly get enough for two yesterday,"

Tinker Bell leaves, shooting a parting glance to the back of the figure's head, the hood down. Although Tinker Bell had given the figure the change of clothes, the form had returned to their original cloak once it was washed in the river and dried, the other clothes underneath.

Tinker Bell marched gently into the surrounding woods, her presence slowly fading with her distance.

Harriet stood from her bird-like perch in the doorway of the hut, brushing off her cloak absentmindedly as she went out. She scouted the perimeter, walking around the property a few times, for several reasons. When she found significant markers and memorized them in her mental map, she trudged her way back to the hut, pushing leaves out of the way as she arrived. She observed Tinker Bell arrive at the hut moments before she did, imagining if she had gone with her earlier decision. The hut would be wrecked, raided, the few things it had on the floor, and the dagger – gone. She'd have left half of the food and supplies for Tinker Bell – who knew how to navigate and hunt on the island anyway, but Harriet didn't want to stamp on her feelings too hard in case she needed her aid again. Tinker Bell would have come home, and seen everything a mess, and Harriet would be smirking when she pictured the look on her face while she sat in front of a campfire somewhere.

Harriet stepped out into the clearing and Tinker Bell turned with a gasp when a shadow fell over her.

The ex-fairy's dainty hand was on her heart to stop it from falling out of its cage.

"Oh, it's you." Her chest rose and fell quickly like a hummingbird's heartbeat. The tone, although Harriet was completely objective towards Tinker Bell, made a nasty, ugly bruise of hurt well up in her chest. Her eyes narrowed in dislike towards the feeling. "Thought you had left." Her chest slowed.

"I had." said the figure tonelessly. "Came back." She said. "Didn't want to scare you," She mentioned to the moment before where she had frightened Tinker Bell.

Tinker Bell nodded, but the figure was already moving across the hut, looking at the walls.

* * *

The figure looked over the supplies with a furrowed brow that came off both annoyed and disdainful.

"Why does Neverland run on imagination if you have to go out and get supplies? - Why you live in a hut? - Why you 'take what you can in Neverland'?" Tinker Bell turned around in surprise at the blunt figure who had their arms folded.

"Well you don't mince words, do you?" laughed Tinker Bell nervously. She sobered when she saw the others face not change. "It's Pan's island. What he says goes. He controls everything around here." The blonde girl turned around like that answered everything, packing some fruit onto the stone table.

"And?"

Tinker Bell looked over her shoulder, more annoyed this time at the question.

"He controls things. If he wants something a certain way, it's what happens. I don't know how – I don't know how –" She lifted her hands, picking up a pile of berries. "But he's got this island wrapped around his pinky finger."

While the figure was thinking about why Tinker Bell could possibly be angry about being questioned about this, since Harriet thought it was a fair, innocent question, Tinker Bell said after a pause of silence,

"I don't know why he hasn't come after you." Turning around, finished with her task, Tinker Bell studied her guest, who stared impassively back at her. "No one's been able to get deep enough into the forest to reach me and my hut," She said with some admiration.

The figure turned away.

"Don't think it was me, if it's what you make it sound like, Pan must have let me come here." The figure disinterestedly walked to her cot and straightened the blanket for something to do. Tinker Bell frowned a little at the others' behavior, but took in her point begrudgingly. Yes, she had wanted to believe that perhaps there was some hope of freedom and free-will, she supposed, but here on Pan's island, he checks everything. Nothing happened without his go-ahead. Tinker Bell sighed in exasperation and turned away. At the cot, Harriet herself had a twinge of confusion and worry – she was really getting bored here in the hut, she hoped something would happen soon, she hoped she would go home soon, she hoped that the anxiety over what this 'Pan' was doing and why he wanted her in Neverland would soon be eradicated by events.

* * *

Third chapter. Ooh, where's Peter, you may ask? You'll have to keep reading ;) Have a good day wherever you may be! :D


	4. S1E3

Harriet slowly rose from her cot, her cloak shrouding her form.

"Anyway, I got a few berries – a fair amount. Should last us a few days, they're a good size at the moment- …" Tinker Bell said as she continued moving her new stash, not seeing Harriet silently passing her and going out the door. Harriet moved like she saw nothing else but the path in front of her, gliding across it and away from the hut, her fists clenched at her sides.

She decided to re-walk her previously established perimeter – feeling confused, anxious, and generally unsettled and fearful, she knew it was best for her to re-do her routine, her new routine she had begun the day before. If she walked the same route, it would ease her emotional trouble a little. Repetition in these small things made her relax. As Harriet kept moving, the strict path she had walked the day before easily recalled in her mind and her feet finding the right steps, her brow slowly lost its furrow. As she traveled, her face became less tight and went blank, and just like that, not three quarters of the way through her journey she was complete. She would have to finish the loop though, before she was really done.

Harriet came to a stop in the middle of the path. Inside, she was itching to keep going. But she stopped for a good reason. Her silver grey eyes slid to the left.

A boy walked out of the ferns. He had a menacing club on his shoulder, a hood drawn over his head, and a slow gait.

He came to a stop far away from where Harriet was. She felt like she was going to be sick soon if she didn't complete her loop, but she had to stay. For her home, for Tinker Bell.

"You're the one that's been watching us all night." She said softly, her voice coming out naturally sweet.

The boy smirked, and nodded, putting a piece of something in his mouth. She couldn't tell if it was wood or twine, and brought up mental calculations of how he got some twine in the middle of the jungle. Was he new here too? Did he bring it from where she came from? Or had he been here a while and kept it? That was a long time to chew the same piece of twine.

She felt so nauseous.

Harriet turned her cheek to focus on her path and stalked away with purpose.

"Pan wishes to extend his –" said the boy in his slow way as the girl walked –

... walked right past him.

Harriet ignored his words and carried on, disappearing into the bushes, not seeing the boy looking after her in puzzlement and confusion.

Harriet broke into a run when the walking wasn't working – she felt so ready to throw up. Her eyes darted to the neighbouring bushes to plan a good spot in case she did throw up. She had to get to the end of her path to feel soothed again, and who knew what would have happened if she had done thrown up on that nice boy. He'd never talk to her again, although he was the creep that had been keeping an eye on the hut. She didn't know how Tinker Bell didn't notice the noises in the bushes, the feeling of being watched. It was nauseating. The sickening feeling erupted higher in her gut but Harriet kept running on the path, breaking out into a cold sweat as a manifestation of her feelings, stress, and nausea, and came to a stop in the same spot she had emerged from earlier. Only this time it was lighter – brighter in the day. She didn't like that it looked different from the first time she did this. And that made her unsettled. It undid the soothing effect the walk on the same path had. She always liked things to be the exact way she had liked them the first time, otherwise it made her nauseous. She wished it would stop doing that.

Harriet broke out into the open by Tinker Bell's hut and crossed the clearing. She wiped the wetness at her hairline and worriedly scanned the outside arena around the house – just in case the boy was there – and tried to push away her unease and stress, not understanding why she always did this and felt like this. She went inside, finding Tinker Bell looking up as she entered.

"Oh there you are. Where'd you go?"

Around. Duh. "Don't want to tell you." said Harriet.

"You know Pan's watching."

"Every time you say that I think of the pots and pans my nana had around when she cooked."

Everything went silent, and Tinker Bell looked surprised for some reason that flew over Harriet's head.

_Maybe that boy I met was Pan… No, no he said 'Pan' extended something… Never finished his sentence… _And that irritated her. Yet at the same time she didn't care for what that boy had to say. She didn't care for his thoughts or feelings. She just didn't care. But she wanted the sentence to finish so in her head she could picture a full stop (period) at the end of his sentence.

Tinker Bell watched Harriet turn around yet again in the middle of their conversation and just begin to do something else. It was starting to irritate her. The girl was so odd, had been odd from the start. It was bearable in the beginning, even fun, but the interruptions in the flow of conversation were mildly beginning to annoy her.

Tinker Bell softened, her furrowed brow loosening. She'd had not a lot of human contact since she'd been stuck here, not with Pan and his forces or anyone, so the human interaction was welcome. She just didn't remember it being so jittery and... a cacophony. Work. Real work.

Harriet turned and left the hut again, this time when Tinker Bell wasn't looking. She had to be alone. She had to cry her eyes out. She just had another conversation with Tinker Bell and didn't understand a single instance of the unspoken things that happened in the conversation. It brought up how she didn't understand people, her frustration of trying to figure out the secret that everybody seemed to be in on except her.

She was feeling so sensitive because of being in a new home in a new place with no idea how she got there. Normally things did not get to her so easily, but she was feeling sensitive because of the above reasons. The emotions were quick to happen and overwhelming, so when they came Harriet knew she had to immediately find an alone space and let herself feel her emotions. She didn't want to do it so close to someone who she could feel judging her.

Harriet found a tree to crawl under and curled up underneath it. She snuggled against the bark to get comfortable, and let her feelings happen. It simply took her intention and they happened. Harriet buried her face into her hands and sobbed, everything getting to her. She cried over so much, letting sorrow and confusion and fear sweep over her, and once she rolled with that, came the rage and ferocity, the will to live, survive, and her body burned hot. She quickly discarded her cloak, wiping her cheeks, breathing deeply through the storm of emotions that quaked her body and soul. They were deep but over quickly – once she had the low, she rose quickly, buoyant. Once her body cooled down and she dried her cheeks, Harriet nonchalantly picked up her cloak and made her way back to the hut, feeling weak and like goo after the emotional release. But she felt good, happy, positive. Everything was going to be alright. Everything would be resolved.

Walking with a bounce in her step, Harriet put on her cloak again, chin high. She heard a twig snap, and thought that the people who lived here were shitty trackers if they made themselves known. She didn't sense the person again as she kept walking.

Just in case, Harriet decided to squat in the bushes surrounding the clearing that lived Tinker Bell's hut. She stayed there until dark, losing her sense of consciousness, just living as one with the forest, to sense the things there and what was happening.

She stood and moved some leaves out of the way as she glided towards the hut. Tinker Bell was just pulling the drawstring of a bag closed as she walked in.

"Oh, you're here, again. I was just going to make a trip to the river – get some water, wash some clothes, pots."

"And Pans." Harriet smiled.

Tinker Bell laughed slightly, pulling the bag over her shoulder.

"Yes,"

"You should go," said Harriet, interrupting, quite eager. "To the river. Do pots. And pans. Clothes. Go…"

Tinker Bell needed a moment to decode her sentence, then the ex-fairy nodded with a smile unwittingly coming to her pale, pinkish lips. They'd lost their color after she lost her magic. Something about Harriet now made Tinker Bell's lips twitch.

But she had been like Harriet once, and she'd turned out a failure. Even with these thoughts in her mind, her smile couldn't be stopped.

"I'd almost think you were in a hurry to get rid of me," Tinker Bell teased.

"I am. Go away." The somber voice was back, the honesty there and the seriousness on her face like when she first met her.

Tinker Bell's face pulled in another indecipherable way, to Harriet, who thought nothing of her expression, before the blonde woman turned and left.


	5. S1E4

Thank you to all my fans.

Loved it that you guys reviewed, faved, alerted, and viewed.

* * *

_Harriet was angry. The anger hadn't quelled since her talk with Tinker Bell. She'd avoided her for the rest of her time until she was able to get away, the girl shooting her confused glances._

_Harriet hated emotion. Emotion itself wasn't so horrible – it was what people could do to her with it. Tinker Bell had no idea how hurt she'd made Harriet with her simple 'oh, it's you', but it made Harriet ache in the chest. And when that ache came back, it made Harriet angry. She had to feel, yes, but never did she like to allow it when it came to other people, their influence on it._

_When feeling became too much, Harriet had to get away. The painful, throbbing ache in her chest was gone, but it was replaced with anger, blind anger. She was angry at how easily Tinker Bell had hurt her, how easily two words came out of her mouth and it made Harriet bleed. She was angry with herself for not covering up the wounds of the past. She was angry she was living under the same roof as the girl who'd unintentionally hurt her. Fury overtook Harriet as she kicked a log that lay off to the side of the road. She kicked it with all the force, focus, and might she had. Since Harriet knew how to channel her tunnel-vision focus, it made for almost an overly perfect spectacle. It made it look like she had scripted and planned it. But she didn't, and the spontaneous expression made her foot hurt._

"_OW!" She yelled, holding her foot with both hands. "CRUMBS!"_

_She nearly fell over after balancing on one foot, but her white hand caught a tree to steady herself. See this, __**this**__,__was why she liked to plan things. Harriet let go of her foot and put it on the ground, it was pointless to hold it when it was going to throb anyway. She had to get going. The pain in her heart was worse, anyway._

_She didn't even know Tinker Bell, yet she had the power to hurt her. Harriet snarled before she limped off, eventually able to use both feet. The dynamic was one that completely infuriated her. She hated it like nothing else._

* * *

Suddenly they were surrounding her, boys in hoods with dark faces and spears and clubs. She rotated on the spot, already knowing she was surrounded, but decided to take down faces the best she could. In case she ran into them again once she got free. But even then, wouldn't she just recognize the cloaks? The sinister expressions? The weaponry? Oh well.

The next thing she knew she was thrown from a net and tumbled into a dirt clearing that harbored a camp. She warily sat as she took in the sight of _more _boys. These ones were younger, but the ages varied. She was seated forcefully on a log in front of a fire, the other boys looking eagerly at her. While her kidnappers moved around where she couldn't see, Harriet was staring into the roaring fire calculating when she could be back to finish her routine, and then developing a contingency plan in case that didn't happen.

"Are you going to be our new mother?" a boy asked eagerly. Harriet's eyes were like a hawk, her frame tense, as her eyes slid to the boy who spoke. Damn him for speaking. She didn't like words when she was thinking – it disrupted her melody of planning in her head. She didn't particularly care about what he said. They were just words to her, they had no meaning. Like the chatter of birds or the cluck of chickens.

"I don't know." She said honestly, looking back into the fire, her habits of being polite happening before she could think about it. It was born and developed from the desire to answer people's questions, since she knew how much she didn't like it when someone didn't answer her questions.

* * *

"I'm Peter. Peter Pan." She looked over him uncertainly.

_Pots and Pans?_

"I had Felix, extend my warm welcome, to Neverland - my island." His eyes had contact with hers as he jumped down from a log and took two steps forward. "But that didn't work," He said as if thinking out loud, now closer to her. "So I had to bring you here for myself."

He put his foot on the log in front of her, his elbow crossing over it.

"And since you seem to want to leave so badly," He sighed reproachfully. "I'm going to make you a deal." He grinned, like he was being so clever. Then it turned serious. Harriet wasn't liking how much his facial muscles moved. It was distracting from what he was saying. People's leg muscles moved when necessary, when the leg needed to be moved, as well as arm muscles, and any other muscle. But people's facial muscles seemed to move on their own. People needed to control that better. Harriet's didn't do that. And how was she supposed to focus on his words when she was trying to decipher why his face was moving like that? "We'll play a game." He said like it was definitely going to happen, like it was a revolutionary idea that would solve all their problems, the Lost Boys starting to whoop.

Harriet shook her head.

"Don't play games," She said about herself. He chuckled like she said something funny.

"You'll be the Mother to the Lost Boys," He looked over his shoulder at the boys who were listening and then back at her. Their reaction was positive. Harriet was wondering why he wasn't listening to her.

She shook her head.

"Be a bad mother."

He blinked, gaze hardened.

"And if you do, I'll send you home." She blinked and looked around as she said,

"What, like… in a week? In a month? If I do a good job?"

He opened his mouth.

"Besides, can't." She said resolutely, bringing herself away from the tantalizing theoretical discussion forcefully and staring at him just like before. "Got to go home to Tinker Bell's hut. Before dark." Had to develop routine.

Pan seemed to be giving her a look, and Harriet was impatient with it because she wanted to be at the end of the discussion already and going home and when people gave her those looks they stopped talking and all discussion halted. It was frustrating when Harriet just wanted to be walking away already. She forced herself to sit on the log still, and that made her feel like she was being torn in half while simultaneously feeling like she had to vomit.

"I'll send you home, to your real home, Harriet."

"Can't, got to go home." She said calmly, immovable on this subject. His use of her name didn't faze or disconcert her, she figured if he had been watching her then he obviously knew her name. Obviously.

But she was starting to feel panic rise in her gut. Would she ever leave this conversation? Would she ever leave this camp? Was there no end, no closure to this stupid, one-sided conversation?!

Pan sighed. Somewhere off to the side, Felix smirked. She saw him do so, but had no idea why. Was there something wrong? She was just talking to him, right? She thought she was communicating things nicely. Those were the analytical comments in her head, but for the most part the rest of her didn't care.

"Fine." Pan sighed. "I guess you're never getting off this island," He rotated around like there was nothing he could do, beginning to walk away. That made panic choke up more in her gut, only because she'd already had the feelings there in the first place, but she pushed it away quickly so she'd be able to leave and solve the emotion.

"K. Can one of you show me the way to Tinker Bell's hut? I'm afraid I don't know it."

The boy who apparently was the leader, turned to look at her over his shoulder. She couldn't decipher the look, just like the other facial expressions she'd seen so far. But she felt like maybe, at some point, she said something wrong. He looked like he couldn't figure her out. Maybe. Maybe not.

He sighed through his nose and quickly jumped over the log, seating himself on it, hands steepling before him.

"Don't you want to go home?" He asked lowly.

"I have a home." She countered honestly.

He was quiet. He stared at her. After a while of silence, he nodded. Nodded a few times.

"Good." He said and stood, keeping his gaze on Harriet, who leaned back. She'd need to be able to adapt like that.

Pan grinned impishly.

"It's a one-time only offer, Harriet." She shook her head in confusion at his use of her name. She didn't normally hear her name coming from other people's lips. The individual sounds of her name made her ears prick and it replayed over and over in her head. She didn't like it. She wanted it to go away. Go away Pan.

Pan's arms were out.

One time only?

"Deal! Wait, no deal!" She said girlishly, smiling open mouthedly. "Hm… I can't pick… One time only…" She picked her lip as she thought.

No, she couldn't leave her routine. It was too precious and important. Besides, she wanted to see Tinker Bell. She sort of liked her. These people she didn't know, and it would be a pain to know them. It was easier to know Tinker Bell because she was sort of see through and she was only one person. Plus, she was a girl, and girls Harriet understood easier because she was a girl. Boys were a mystery. She liked to ask people what they thought, directly, but they didn't seem to respond well to that because she never got an answer. Therefore, she had never quite figured out boys. Girls were also a mystery, but she had some things pegged down at least. Boys were an enigma. She didn't understand them. And things that Harriet didn't understand made her cry. But this she could live with.

But wait, what if she grew to like these people and then got sent home? Then she'd not only miss these good people, but have her routine disrupted for the _third _time. Harriet grew angry at the thought.

"No thanks." She said in the same tone as before and patted her hands as she stood up. "Going to Tinker Bell's hut now,"

Pan looked surprised as Harriet made her way to the right of the camp towards the trees. His look of shock altered as his eyes changed and his jaw clenched.

"You can't leave." His voice was low and yet loud.

She didn't stop, moving happily towards the trees, ready to step foot onto the dirt path and beginning to sing a song to herself in her head that she liked the melody of.

She had to stop, however, when the Lost Boys blocked her path.

* * *

Ooh, what will happen next?


	6. S1E5

Have fun reading!

* * *

_The figure sputtered and coughed as they lay on the shore of a beach. In dark clothes soaked to the bone, the figure spat out water, hearing eerie, echoing, rolling whispers coming from behind them. The figure dragged themselves out of the lapping waves more, hoping to dry themselves quickly in the air. They heard feminine giggles from behind, from the sea._

_The figure's coughs paused as they inhaled, then they began to cough again as they dragged themselves upright. In the corner of their eye they saw something that made them turn quickly in fright towards the sea._

_There, beautiful, giggling women danced in the waves of the sea. Flashes of blue green tails could be seen from above the water moving fluidly._

_They were speaking to the figure on the beach, cooing, simpering and calling in their eerie song that beheld haunting beauty like that of their physical appearance._

"_You'll never get off this island! Pan's island! But come with me, I can take you to the next realm, my sweet,"_

_The figure pulled themselves up more and away from the water, pulling themselves out completely, away from the daring mermaid that ventured closer with an outstretched hand. The other mermaids chorused faintly, but no less beautifully,_

"_Come with us! Us!"_

"_Let me take you away…"_

_The figure panted and did nothing, and after a few moments the hovering mermaid snarled and dived into the water with an angry splash. The figure on the beach raised a wet silken hand to fend off water from their face. The other women lost their welcoming looks and followed stealthily. The figure on the shore crumpled, trying to even their breath, looking at their legs then at the forest behind them._

_The figure wiped their wet silked mouth with silked hand, dotted with sand, eyes darting about, whispering in furious confusion, "What is this place?!", at a low volume to themselves for that was all they could muster through a tight throat._

_Limbs shaking from cold and fatigue, the person stood up, trying to take care with their body to make sure not to further hurt themselves, and righted their wet clothes. The emotion on their face drained as they turned from the quietening sea to see what was forward, the next move. They took one look at the jungle that lay ahead, taking a half step, and froze._

_They knew they had to go forward. What lay ahead they could not tell, but behind were mermaids and certainly no way off this island. The figure was in limbo. Go, and enter oblivion, or stay where they had no options but it was not as dangerous?_

_They took steps towards the line of the jungle, leaving a trail of footprints to the soil as they disappeared behind darkness and green._

* * *

Harriet waited for them to move, but they didn't.

"…Are you not going to move?" She asked, thinking maybe they'd just found a good spot to stand. If she was in front of them and they weren't moving, maybe it was a really good spot.

She turned around and looked at Pan, who was standing with his fists clenched, facing her.

Harriet's face became blank. As she looked at Pan, the fire next to him cast his face in a different light than before. His face was contorted in an odd way, and it did not register to Harriet that he might be thinking or feeling something. But something about the entire situation, about Pan, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, made Harriet claim him. He was her Pots and Pans now. He was her Pots and Pans.

"You could have just asked nicely," Harriet turned towards him more, her mind going blank.

* * *

In the tree hut, everything was a mess. There was dust, clothes, and other items _everywhere. _Harriet quietly picked up an untouched broom and started to clean up. She sneezed when she banged a cabinet accidentally and some dust off the top of it went up her nose, and it acted up for a while until she finished. She was nearly worried it would never happen.

* * *

Harriet was making sure everyone had everything they needed. She was constantly moving around. It was a never ending job – there was always something she had to do. But she felt that she was fitting the new job quite nicely. Oh well, that was her opinion. Maybe she wasn't. If she wasn't though, she worried about that, and she wished someone would say something if that was the case. It was more taxing than she had originally estimated, and she had given it, in her mind, a rather large estimation of taxation upon her resources and energy.

Harriet took her job seriously. If one of the boys needed something, she got it. When they needed more food she was already passing another bowl to them, when they needed extra blankets she had already dropped them off at their room.

Some of them tried to talk to her, and she listened and commented on the topic of conversation. She was quickly learning their names and figuring out their characters and dynamics – something she wanted. She was actively trying to interact with them, because she knew she sucked at it and mothers needed to do that. She thought she'd get better the more she did it. She hoped she came across reliable, responsible and dependable.

She knew the boys thought her odd, and they sometimes commented on her strangeness, to which she said nothing. There was nothing that needed to be said. They said things like she was serious, strange, and quiet. It was only after they said this that Harriet worried that she might scare them like she scared and intimidated most people, but the boys were pretty resilient. They came back from their days out with Pan with scrapes and cuts and dirt smudges, and it just bounced off their cheery attitudes. It made Harriet relax. She felt proud of them that they were so resilient, and that they weren't scared of her. They would need to be, to be hers.

Harriet was both surprised and not surprised that the boys were actually sweet under it all. They were so sinister when she met them, but once she was their Mother, they changed. It made sense, although she didn't have a personal opinion or preference on it. She was their mother, so it was her job to accept them.

Harriet and the Lost Boys sat around in front of the fire, dinner being served. Harriet kept an eye on everyone and pushed a spoonful of food past her lips. She didn't know if she was doing a good or bad job. She took her job very seriously, and, wanted to ask someone, but knew that those kinds of questions people never really… answered like she would. It made her feel lost. On the other hand, she felt confident that she knew she was doing, because the boys were starting to look at her differently (she thought), and the routine she'd imposed was having positive results. Because she was a creature of habit, she was dependable and reliable. Boys living in chaos needed that. She thought, anyway. She may be wrong.

Everyone seemed to be doing fine, the boys were jovial, carefree, as they were every day so far. They didn't complain about the food – but they ate a lot of it and Harriet was always eyeing ways to keep it coming to the table. She was constantly developing new strategies to bring it to everyone's plate.

"_You're different from our last mother," said one of the boys._

"_How many mothers have you __**had**__?" Harriet said. This was the second comment on it._

"_Oh, just the one," said the boy lightly, laughing._

Even though the number was small, that made Harriet unhappy. She would be filling in someone else's shoes now. Drat. They would be comparing her to the person before her. Harriet's frame tensed as her trail of thought continued, and she ate robotically, her thoughts spiraling into darker, tenser, more stressed thoughts, her senses taking in more and more minute data from around her. Damn it. She thought she'd been doing a good job. Now her foundation was all wonky because she had the wrong information. She cussed in her mind.

After dinner, Harriet was seated on the same log sewing a hole closed in a cloak. She was completely focused, her face blank and somber, her earlier thoughts forgotten as her focus was completely absorbed in her task. She didn't hear the footsteps nor even see the person that sat down next to her, completely in her own world. It was only when she was tapped twice on the shoulder by two fingers did she jump out of her focus.

She turned over her shoulder to see one of the younger boys standing behind her.

"Mother, are you going to bed soon?"

She was surprised. They hadn't approached her like that before.

"Y-Yes, Timmy, I am. Thank you." She said softly out of surprise.

The boy glomped her. She stiffened at being touched, but welcomed it because a mother needed to let her children touch her and hug her. She thought about touching his back, but didn't because he was too quick to pull away for her to do so.

"Goodnight, mother!" And he trotted away to the tree house. Only then did Harriet look around and notice that everyone had gone to bed. She debated on what to do next and took in the pile of cloaks that still needed to be repaired next to her. She emotionlessly returned her focus to the sewing, getting lost in the work easily, her hand moving rhythmically and the thread holding strong when she was done. The pile was gone in no time, and Harriet stood with the pile of clothes to return them to the boys. She'd repaired enough of her own clothes to know how to sew for durability.

She entered the underground hideaway and saw the boys sleeping unorganizedly all in a large room. She carefully looked them over and began to step over them as she took in the cloaks individually and returned the items to the right boys, her memory not failing her, although she was unsure between two boys at one point, she covered the one without a cloak in it like a blanket and touched his hair. When she was done, the girl quietly left the room and went back outside in case she forget anything, and she had – the dishes. Harriet sighed but got to work.

In quiet moments, Harriet thought of Tinker Bell and her routine she wanted to repeat again – her walk. Her sleeping. Her bed in the corner which she liked. The tree hut was oddly shaped and didn't make for a cozy place to sleep, she thought, anyway. Tinker Bell's hut was far more soothing. Harriet thought often when it got dark, of what would happen if she just got up and left for the night just to sleep there, and then come back in the morning. If only she knew the way, then she wouldn't be talking about it but doing it.

* * *

The next night at dinner, Harriet was reservedly eating her food. She relished the moment to take care of herself – everyone had food right now and it was a rare moment where she could look after herself. Because of Harriet's status as second mother, as she thought of herself, she didn't like to get too much into her 'sons' business. And when she focused on something, everything else was drowned out. However, that night at dinner, one conversation went into her focus.

Harriet's eyes flicked to a group of four boys, unintentionally overhearing their conversation. They were bickering about the spelling of a word. Her eyes studied them. The argument escalated as they squawked over one another, convinced of their own correctness and determined to have the last word and outwit the other. You know, to the extent uneducated boys could.

"Dead! It's D-E-D – dead!"

"I think I know how to spell the word 'dead' Teage,"

"Yeah! I bet you can't even spell it out! Go ahead! Write it down!"

It was obvious the boy couldn't, and the bickering was about to come to physical blows.

"You don't know how to _read_?" came the calmly incredulous voice of the lone girl at camp, arresting and capturing their attention from her spot alone on a log. "Come over here, let me teach you."

The boys shared bemused looks, smiles tugging at their lips.

"Come here, let me show you. And you will learn." She meant reading.

Slowly, chatter started back up. The boys in question looked sheepishly towards one another.

"_Why_? We don't need to learn how to read!" One of them said judgmentally.

* * *

**You see what I did there? So the first chapter was the way it looks, then this chapter in the beginning was what actually happened in her account, like what was going on **_**inside **_**the scene.**


	7. S1E6

Go back to chapter seven because some things were changed – the last scene, and the second/third scene were changed. Just some light reading. It's important for the plot.

* * *

As soon as she agreed to teach them, only one boy remained to learn. She didn't think it'd gone in, until one night when the campfire was quiet. The night was dark and groups of boys were talking amongst themselves, having downtime.

Harriet was unassumingly staring at her surroundings when a presence sat down next to her. She looked with obvious surprise to the boy there.

"C-Can you teach me? How to read?" He asked softly, like he was nervous of being overheard.

She gazed unfathomably at him for a few moments.

"Sure."

He let out a relieved breath in a grin. She moved her eyes to her bag. She rarely moved from the campsite unless it was on a daily walk. Her bag remained untouched, sagged on its front, a few feet away. In there lay her reading book, but it was a bit advanced for him, perhaps.

She glanced back at him.

"Let's start with the alphabet."

He nodded enthusiastically.

With a stick she drew out the 26 letter alphabet.

"There are twenty-six letters in the alphabet. Each letter has a sound, and a combination of sounds make words." She glanced up at him. "You know how you say 'ch', 'a', and 'air'? They come together to spell 'chair', like you know it. The alphabet is the foundation of the language. It basically just makes up all the words you already know, but you're learning a different form of it."

The boy nodded surely.

Harriet crossed out a few things she did, swiped her foot over the dirt to start again, as she assessed a way to teach him the alphabet in a way he'd remember. She'd never done this before. At first she'd written out each letter in lower case, then she cleaned the slate and rewrote it in the way she'd learned – by seeing each letter in capital AND lower case. If he was going to read he'd need to know what a letter looked like in capital letters.

"So, we'll go line by line, learning what each letter looks like, and what each sound is, which you already know." She made eye contact. "It's just the pairing, of the two," He nodded. She looked down at the diagram, stick in hand. "Okay, let's start,"

"Twenty-six letters, that's four times six remainder two, which is five point 2 lines," She looked up to see him worried. "So every night we'll go over the letters line by line until you learn line in combination with the other lines. Every night for a little bit because studies show that frequent repetition at a minimal time, for a minimal time, rather than one large study period is more effective in retaining information," She put her finger up to her temple. "your brain. You'll remember this longer," And no way was she going to do something ineffective and not teach him anything worthy.

"Okay?"

"Okay." He nodded.

"Now repeat after me,"

Harriet tapped the stick above each letter as she sounded it out, hearing the boy echo it after her. She finished the first line, then tapped the stick above the letter, silent. He unerringly sounded out the first line, with one or two hiccups.

"Good."

They went over the second line once, then repeated the first. After a few runs, he could remember the entire first line on his own.

"Wow, you're a fast learner." She praised him with an adoring smile, giving him eye contact. He brightened at the praise, his chest puffing out and his eagerness to learn only bolstering.

She explained the concept of capital letters and lower case letters, telling him why they looked different side by side on the letters she'd drawn out. Then they continued to the second line because of how fast he was learning.

He drank in the information eagerly like a fish to water, to which Harriet was quite glad for this experience. She was used to people's eyes glazing over when she talked. To have someone open to hearing what she talked about and found important was nice.

They went over it for about ten minutes, Harriet praising him when he got it right and waiting patiently when he struggled, until she told him it was enough. She was a calm and concise teacher, informative and calm when he had a question or had to be explained something in a different way.

"Alright. I think you should go to bed now." She stretched, plopping down the stick onto the ground and swiping the dirt with her foot. "We can do this again tomorrow, or whenever," Like whenever he had time. Harriet knew she could come off intense and controlling, so the last thing she wanted was to scare off the boy. It had to be his decision to learn. Pan may find out and forbid it, and the teaching may not ever continue, or maybe the boy would change his mind about learning to read altogether. People were fickle. Who knew.

* * *

Peter Pan made his appearance in front of his stoic guest, hand on his belt.

"So, Harriet, have you given any thought to what I've said?" The girl only stared at him apathetically. She was the picture of 'I don't give a –'. He would sit, and talk to her. At night, at dinner, talk to her, try to figure her out, ask her questions, try to get a rise out of her. It never worked.

Pan sighed through his nose, seating himself on the log parallel to hers. He placed his palms together in front of his face, lips to his fingers like he was thinking.

"How about I make you a deal?" He finally said, hand on his thigh like he was compromising so much.

She looked at him dryly. She'd never technically agreed to the first one. She'd refused it. He kept her at the camp anyway, and she threw herself into work when he threw her into the hut to begin cleaning. Sigh.

He stared at her intensely and leaned forward.

"Be mother to the Lost Boys. If you do, I'll give you more freedom."

She shook her head.

"Well you're practically a mother to them already! Some of them even call you mother!"

"…Sure…" She said dryly.

He brightened, but she quickly said,

"That wasn't an agreement to your… proposal."

The grin left.

"So all this, all of your time, your energy, taking… _care _of my boys, what is that, exactly?" He asked mockingly. "Just now, with Talec, what _was _that? Teaching him how to read, that is?"

He got no rise out of her.

He glowered.

"Fine, you'll just stay here."

"Fine…"

_Ohhhh nooooo~ _She mocked in her head. That was all she was doing, anyway.

* * *

Harriet was walking with a tall posture towards her room. She left her door half open and walked into her room, going about her self-imposed routine. It wasn't as nice as her previous routine. She thought about Tinker Bell often, and about the routine she had there. How she itched to go back and repeat it. In fact, it was all she fantasized about – repeating it over and over and over in her head. She liked her room, there was quiet.

"Mother?" Harriet flinched, unused to the name still in her mind, and turned around. Timmy stood there. His expression was the first thing that made her not tell him to stay out of her room. He looked wrong – like there was something wrong. She didn't know what to do. The boy unhesitantly walked into her room which was the first thing that made her stiffen, since he had no permission, but then the boy wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her.

He sniffed against her shirt, his messy hair just being ruffled more as he rubbed his head against her. Harriet was at a complete loss of what to do, but she slowly touched his back and held him gently.

"My mom, my real mom, back home… she used to hold me when I had a bad dream… before she died…" He said really softly, luckily Harriet's hearing was good, she thought. Because she wouldn't be able to help him if he was telling her the problem and she couldn't hear it. She vaguely wondered why he was coming to her, though.

Harriet gulped and her eyes darted to her bed. Her sweet bed. This was so taxing in a way she never expected. Damn it.

"Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?" She asked softly. He didn't give affirmation, but he followed her to her bed and tumbled in beside her when she got in carefully. She eyed his raucousness, but made no comment about it. She lay stiffly on her back staring at the ceiling, then thought she should be doing something more. The boy effortlessly snuggled into her side though. She paused for a moment, deciding what to do, then put her arm around him and lay back. The boy was sniffling still, and her hand went on its own to stroke his hair over and over, and then his back. She knew how she herself liked repetition, so she kept doing it. It seemed to work and the boy fell asleep, Harriet smiling at her success.

She knew tomorrow she would so wake up in a bad mood because of the extra presence in her bed. She knew it. She hated breathing.

* * *

The fish was cooking on the fire as the boys were making a ruckus about camp. Peter was sharpening some spears on a stone with Felix near him, the Lost Boys running around chaotically. He looked up at Harriet as she cooked, then back down to his work, moodily. She wasn't cracking. She was meant to crack, stay there with him.

Harriet was feeling unsettled that night – there were so many things to compute and ponder. It was not only the new role which she had to assimilate into her head – it was also certain things about staying at the camp – the noise, for one. Then the uneasiness she felt about a few combinations of shapes. The constant presence of _boys._

A boy was running too fast by Harriet, too close to the hazardous pile of spears the older boys had left lying around. Before she thought about it her hand shot out and grabbed him out of the way.

"Watch it," She warned, pointing without gazing at the spears on the ground.

The boy grinned.

"Thanks, mother!"

God she hated that name. She wasn't their mother. They had their own mothers. Where were they? Is that why they were called, the 'Lost Boys?'

Harriet was pretty much ignorable by anyone's standards, she stayed out of the 'fun' when the Lost Boys played their games. If they wanted to bang sticks and run around whooping they could, but she would not join in. She'd have to admit, when they brought her here she thought it was for a cannibalistic meal, but it turns out that was not the case. So when her white hand shot out to grab the back of the boys' collar and yank him out the way for the second time, she glowered at him. The boys close by were startled, as if reminded she was there. She was the only still thing in camp that she just kind of blended in with the trees, you know, despite the fact that she was the only girl.

Pan looked over.

The boy she had yanked looked surprised and grinned at her. Harriet used her tiger like grip to pull the boy, who was limp under her hold at his neck, back and down onto the log next to her, the only person seated. It was like she pulled him into the only still part of the camp - like a vortex where everyone around them moved.

"It's best you just sit," She said with her low voice, blowing on her hot food. He was the clumsy one. Horin.

The boy pushed away some hair that was too long from his face, that she'd have to cut, she thought, as he grinned up at her.

"It's alright, mother. I'm sure I can avoid it next time," He said sweetly.

"Mmhm." She said disbelievingly. "Is that why you ran back a second time?"

The boy sighed exasperatedly that that wouldn't work on her, and stayed on the log.

He was energetic and fidgeted on the log, but he stayed. He eyed Harriet.

Harriet was focusing on her food but the next thing she knew Horin slid closer to her, and when she didn't do anything he picked up her elbow so he'd be under her arm. A few boys looked over curiously, as they always did, because they were still surveying her and her reactions to different things. His arms wound around her torso, and she felt uncomfortable. She was stiff, unsure of what to do. This was the first time one of them went to her for comfort out in the open.

She slowly relaxed her arm onto his shoulders and shifted in her spot. Horin snuggled into her shoulder, looking content to just sit there. She raised her eyebrow, but resumed eating because that was her original purpose. She ate robotically, letting the boy hang onto her. He seemed content just to be there, so she wasn't worrying. After a while she opened her cloak and moved it around him just in case he was cold and to let him bask in her warmth – that was healing, she'd heard, and what mothers did. Although she wasn't explicitly the mother, she had internalized the agreement somewhat.

She saw Peter Pan from across the camp and immediately brightened in her heart, but not her face, upon seeing him. She let herself watch him. She always felt better after seeing the way the light reflected off his skin. It soothed her because she liked it, even though she was forced to stay in the camp. Well, not _forced, _just never allowed to _leave. _Whenever she tried, one of the Lost Boys either blocked her or she'd have a shadow or escort if she was getting more water or washing clothes. As always Pan was talking with some boys but then his face faced hers even though he was talking to another boy, his expressions moving about.

Harriet looked away from him. It was still difficult to look at him when his face kept moving like that - it reminded her of caterpillars, and eggs cooking in a frying pan. He smirked over at her when he saw her avert her face. Dipshit.

Harriet thought about how much she liked to look at him, her Pots and Pans, and how she liked to see the sun reflect off his skin. How it soothed her, how much she needed that. She looked over at him across the camp again, but quickly looked down to Horin when his head nearly fell off her shoulder, and stabilized him, her hand holding his chin with a smack, his sleeping angelic face facing her. God, she hated faces.

"Silly boy," She said to him, even though he couldn't hear her. Didn't he know to find a flat surface to sleep on? Harriet finished her food. Once dinner was over Horin didn't wake up so she took him to his bed herself. She laid him down gently as best she could, then stood and soberly watched him. Her hand patted her cloak for something before she turned and left. She looked around to see if Pan was there, but he wasn't.

There was a figure, alone, cold, in the dark. A forest. A large, foreboding, intimidating forest. What lay behind it was frightening, unknown, a mystery. They would never, ever forget that sight.

"Mother," said a young voice. Harriet sat up mechanically in bed.

"Yes?" She heard no answer.


	8. S1E7

Thank you so much for the Guest reviewer that keeps reviewing! Oh and for all the reviewers thank you so much for all the love! I love you guys! Someone mentioned that some things are confusing, and yes they are, haha, but it will all solve itself. I hope it stays at a bearable level until then. Lol. It is mystery genre!

* * *

She stalks over pools of water by the sea, spear in hand. The rock pools reflect the stormy grey sky and her focused face. She balances on moss sheeted rocks, spear poised to strike.

She strikes, pulling her spear out of the salt water, her catch wiggling frantically. Nearby, Peter Pan sat on a rock with his knees to his chest. He watches her. She ignores him, both because she is focused, and because she doesn't know why he's watching her – it serves no purpose. There's no need to comment on it. She's too busy being afraid she'd step on a crab or something.

"You're getting better at this," He comments. Her mind flickers with images back to when she had first started this. Her very first visit to the waters, and the second and third, perfecting her weapon of choice – the spear – into the ultimate fish spearing weapon. It had been so difficult and clumsy, frustrating in the beginning, until she used trial and error to hone in on a lighter, thinner spear for speed and accuracy. The Lost Boys helped her fashion it, it was made from light wood both in colour and weight, and the end had a pointed spear. Still, she wasn't successful on every first try.

"Haven't perfected it yet." She responded, retreating from the sea. She slowly waded back to shore, the water washing from her legs to the floor and dripping. She crouched down next to where her cloak was, even though it wasn't particularly cold it wasn't warm either – but she still brought it because she wore it every day.

Peter watched her. He'd noticed that every time she came out here, to fish, she never looked to the horizon – she was always completely focused on catching fish.

"You don't miss your last home?" He asked. His Lost Boys always did, in the beginning.

Harriet was getting annoyed with the questions. When she was out here, connecting, being one with nature, and doing her job, she just wanted absolute silence. There was nothing that needed to be said. Silence was rejuvenating. But whenever he went with her, or sat down with her anywhere, at the fire, at dinner, at breakfast, he asked questions. In the beginning out here at the sea, he had been quiet, even if he watched her – she didn't particularly care. She missed those times. Still, he still watched her. But that was the last thing on her mind.

Harriet smacked her hands together and knelt in the sand, a different beach than she had met the mermaids but it still made her eyes dart towards the sea, building a fire where she could dry her legs. It roared to life, having watched numerous times how the Lost Boys built fires. She took some food from out of her cloak, eating the small snippets in bites,

"No need for old home anymore. Here now. Have job. Have mouths to feed." She ate quietly, not looking at him. Hoping he'd go away. Hoping he'd stop asking questions. Although she explained things in her usual tone, it didn't stop her hope that he'd vanish.

"So you admit you're their mother?" His feet found the sandy surface and he walked over. "That you'll stay?"

Her mind worked fast as she looked out into the serene ocean, talking like she hadn't heard him. He sighed, but it was broken when she started talking,

"Lots of fish. Come out here every day. Boys always hungry. Afraid fish population will dry up before their stomach's do."

His bark of laughter made her snap a surprised look his way, her surprise obvious. She was obviously startled by the sound, but settled her arms around her knees again as she loosely let her legs dry in front of the fire, resuming her staring ahead blankly.

Peter raised his brows, chuckling charmingly,

"You're funny."

She didn't react, and he turned serious, fists loosely clenched in a way that showed he meant business.

"I mean it. This is my island. As long as I'm here, the fish will never dry up under my watch." His deep voice said determinedly like a leader. She stared at him like he had just said the weirdest statement on the planet. Then she seemed like trying to understand his statement, then looked at him in confusion. He smirked.

_Is he… bragging in front of me? _She thought. _Peacocking, whatever the word is? Why would he say something like that? _It was such a revolutionary idea that it froze Harriet. It was the first time a thought like that occurred to her.

Oh, she was so cute, he thought, chuffed that he'd gotten her attention. It was tough to do so.

Just then she noticed that he had stepped in front of her gaze this whole time, blocking her view.

Her brow furrowed in annoyance and confusion – mostly the former because of the latter, and stood, even though her legs weren't dry yet at the back.

She hated interacting with Peter Pan – he always confused her. She cried about it at night.

Harriet smoothed her brow as she put on her cloak and boots and picked up her catch. She purposely ignored Peter Pan and marched across the shore towards the forest, hugging her catches to her chest, not seeing Peter smiling but guessing he was following her – he always did.

* * *

A figure huddled underneath a large oak tree in the woods, shivering from the cold. They looked up at the midnight sky, at the stars, and begged to be taken away. As usual, no one came. They buried their face in their knees, sobbing broken and wetly. A twig snapped nearby and the figure gasped.

* * *

That night, Harriet sat up mechanically. The camp was dark when she left.

Although she walked through darkness in the forest, she moved like she knew where she was going, her hood flopping as she walked, a bag over her shoulder.

She was very surprised when she made it to Tinker Bell's hut, having figured out the way a long time ago. She went to the shore and followed the shoreline until she got to the lagoon with two distinct trees that she had entered the forest in. She walked back into the forest and went the way she had before to Tinker Bell's hut, falling into the pathway of _her _path and she began making loops around Tinker Bell's hut in the dark. She lost count of how many times she passed the hut where it was visible, keeping on moving.

* * *

Tinkerbell slowly crept outside her door, about to take her hanging clothes from a tree branch inside when she saw a figure standing in the corner of her eye and she jumped and whirled to face it.

"Hi." said Harriet.

Tinkerbell's heart beat like a hummingbird's wing in her chest, she held it to try to calm it down.

"H-Harriet?!" She called unsurely.

"Yes." She replied, stepping out of the shadows and Tinker Bell a bit of relief that the girl was not starved or hurt in any way. "Came to check on you."

Tinker Bell slowly took in Harriet a little bit more. She was standing there like she'd been fine…

"Didn't Pan take you?"

"Oh, yes," She sounded surprised, her face just serene and peaceful right after the flash of emotion came.

"And he just… let you leave?! Pan just let you leave?"

Harriet seemed to think about it.

"Oh, no… I thought he wouldn't care much if I told him so I just left… But if you're right about him then he's watching."

Tinker Bell didn't know what to make of this situation. Pan would never just let his prisoners walk…

"You look bad," Tinker Bell's eyes flashed to the other girl as the statement came. "Worried about me. Eating less." She looked Tinker Bell over. "Shouldn't. I'm fine."

That sounded so much like Harriet.

"Thank God you're okay," Tinker Bell rushed over and threw her arms around the girl she thought was a ghost, but she turned out to be solid. Harriet chuckled the second she hugged her.

"Used to physical contact now," She said proudly in the blonde girl's ear. "Been feeling it for days," When Tinker Bell pulled back, she saw the other girl was grinning from ear to ear.

Tinker Bell couldn't believe the other girl was smiling through all of this.

"Oh God, Harriet, when I came back you were gone, and there were drag marks, I thought – I thought the worst… Pan's never nice to his prisoners,"

"Oh I know, when I was taken I thought I was going to be cannibalistic dinner, but turns out – not!" She raised her arms and Tinker Bell found herself laughing. Gosh this girl was so weird.

"Do you want to come in? I think I might have some leftover food,"

"No, I hate your cooking."

Tinker Bell stopped, unsure whether it was serious or not, but then she unfroze and laughed, too relieved to see her friend okay to worry about her cooking.

"I guess when I had to start doing manual things I never really… got the hang of it," She said sheepishly, rubbing her arms from the cold, looking Harriet over again, unable to believe what she was seeing. "He never... hurt you?"

"Who? Pots and Pans?"

Tinker Bell thought she was going to cry – oh how she had missed this girl she had only met for a short amount of time. She missed having an ally, a friend, especially one as innocent as this girl.

"Why would he do that?"

Harriet blinked, and the ex-fairy was too happy to see her again that she didn't want to destroy her veil of naivety.

"Never mind, come on!" She pulled her by the wrist across the clearing into the hut, but before they got there Harriet somehow pulled out of her hold and brought her arms under her cloak so it shrouded her.

"Can't go in there." She said.

"What? Why not?"

"It's night. Can't go inside there at night. Always went inside the hut at day. Stayed at night. Ventured out in morning. Always the rules." Harriet plopped herself on the ground, legs out in front of her. "Missed this." She said, surveying the environment, and Harriet was starting to see the more serious Harriet coming out.

Tinker Bell was about to run inside and get something when Harriet's face turned to her unexpectedly and she said,

"On my way here I saw a large black thing in the sky. Is there a large bird that lives on this island? I keep seeing it."

Tinker Bell's breath caught in her throat as she was about to say something, and then she realized.

"That's… Pan's shadow."

"Oh." Harriet shrugged. Then she looked back at Tinker Bell quickly. "What is his shadow doing running around on its own?"

Tinker Bell quickly shook her head not even daring to answer that question and said quickly,

"No, it's the thing that brought you here, remember?" Tinker Bell said slowly.

Harriet shook her head.

"Never seen it before."

Tinker Bell shifted her stance, standing taller.

"But you said – when we met, that it brought you here!"

Harriet shook her head soberly, looking up at her.

"Not the case – you kept talking about a shadow and how it brings people here. I never said the shadow brought me here."

Tinker Bell leaned back.

"So how did you get here then?"

"To the island? I swam. Just missed the mermaids."

Tinker Bell slowly shook her head, her mouth gaping at Harriet. She would never figure that girl out. She just decided she was not going to ask. She was not going to bother. Harriet took in Tinker Bell's expression, one she got a lot from people if she ever decided to talk, and looked away, a bit hurt by it. She expected her friend to understand her. It was an expression she paired with people leaving.

Tinker Bell turned and left, going to her hut, and Harriet sharply gaped after her, not expecting herself to be right.

"Well, you gonna come inside or not?"

Harriet's jaw clicked shut.

"Did you not _hear _me a moment ago?"

Tinker Bell laughed quietly.

"No, silly, it's just cold out. You're not going back to Pan's willingly are you? Come on in, I have a fire going." The girl gave a small, pretty smile and went inside, leaving the door open.

"She'll let all the warm air out," Harriet said out loud.

* * *

"Just a minute!" Harriet called out loud to the hut. She turned her head over her right shoulder and the figure in the trees took a moment to step out.

Gosh was he just following her the whole time? When she was making loops, when she sat here talking to Tinker Bell?

"You're a real weirdo, you know that?"

Felix smirked slowly.

"Look whose talkin'," He said in a teasing way.

"Don't say, 'look whose talkin'' like that, you weirdo!" She said back sassily. "You're the one following some helpless girl around when all she wants is some alone time!"

Felix smirked, and mercifully decided not to say anything on the subject.

"Pan will be angry when he finds out," He said suggestively.

Harriet looked back longingly at the light doorway of Tinker Bell's hut, yearning to close it. It was letting all the warm air out. She drew her mind back to the conversation at hand,

"He probably knows already," She said seriously. "That's probably the only reason why I'm here."

Felix raised his brows for a moment, although he already knew that, and he twisted the twine in his teeth between his fingertips.

"I'm gonna take you back to camp,"

"If you even _dare _try to force me, I will _run_." said the girl with a sharp head turn towards him, her eyes spitting fire. "And not you, or your little _devil_ friends, will stop me." She scrambled to stand up. "None of you understand me – I came out here for a reason. I don't just do things for no reason – that's highly annoying…"

Felix shrugged nonchalantly.

"Either you come with me, or he'll come and pick you up himself. It's best not to annoy him."

"Why would he be annoyed? He clearly let me walk out! Plus," She said in a less angry tone but her more informative and innocent one, "I left breakfast out for everybody in case I didn't come back in time."

Felix's twirling of the twine paused. She was looking at it.

"I'm sorry I vomited on you." Her eyes raised to his in surprise. "I mean, I'm sorry I nearly did. That's why I ran. I was going to vomit, and it would have been all over your ugly clothes. I'm sorry did I say ugly? I meant lovely, the two sound so alike. It's just so drab you know, brown, brown, brown, all the boys are brown, the leaves are green, the trees are green, Peter's eyes are green…"

Felix eyes had taken on a new light, she wasn't sure if he was angry or if he was going to cry, which is why Harriet should never guess facial expressions – if she was in a life or death situation and someone asked her what someone was feeling guessing by the face, they'd all die.

"Did you notice that the last three batch of words between the commas had two 'e's in the second and last words? I did! Leaves, two, green, two, trees, two, green, two, peter's, and then the last one, peter's eyes are green has three sets of two 'e',s to finish it off…"

"Enough."

"Whaaaat?" She said quietly, like she couldn't believe he told her to stop.

Then suddenly his composure returned and he smirked slowly. She stopped because she was trying to assess why he wasn't as into this as she was. She felt slightly disappointed.

"Why don't you follow me back to camp so you can be at breakfast, before Pan wakes up."

He sleeps? She thought vaguely in the back of her mind, but she was so busy trying to figure out why Felix didn't like her talking and why he wasn't as into syntax as she was that she just followed behind him quietly. They were already too far into the woods for Tinker Bell to hear her but Harriet realized she'd left her and whirled around and yelled with a large wave,

"BYE TINKER BELL! HAVE A GOOD NIGHT!" A few birds scattered from the trees, and Harriet watched them fly away. Birds…

Harriet turned around and followed Felix, who had stopped but started moving again.

"I didn't know Pan slept…" She said. She frowned, trying to think how this was possible.

Despite his nonchalance, Felix threw a look over his shoulder at her. She was glancing at the stars in the sky.


	9. S1E8

On the way back to Pan's camp, Harriet had wanted to dart off into the bushes to go pee, but she thought if she did that Felix would just run after her and then that would be an awkward situation.

Harriet pondered many things – why Felix didn't like it when she had talked earlier, whether or not Pan slept, and for fun, tried to guess by probability when she would next get to use the bathroom – she calculated her duties once they got back to camp, the amount of boys who were given orders to keep her in the camp as long as possible, tied with possible unknowns that had to be accounted for to give wiggle room, plus, sleep time. She needed to sleep. Her mind whizzed happily with the challenge to predict the Lost Boys' trajectory.

"Where were you?"

Harriet looked up in surprise when they were back at camp quicker than she realized and Pan was in front of them.

"See, Felix? He doesn't sleep." She said to him happily, glad that she solved one of the mysteries, beaming at the mature boy.

Pan shot Felix a fierce glance, which his right hand man caught.

Felix didn't bother to spare her a look and shook his head, walking away further into the camp, his job done. Harriet watched him go because she wasn't ready for his form to remove itself from the situation, they were standing in a trio, an isosceles triangle, but then she silently accepted it and returned her attention to Pan.

"What do you mean, where was I?" Harriet said to Pan. "I was clearly out with Felix," She motioned to the departing boy.

Pots and Pans took a step closer, and Harriet blinked. She'd learned to equate that expression of anger, but she wasn't too sure yet, because people wore that expression then said they were fine.

She suddenly realized they were both alone.

"You left."

She didn't say anything, because she thought that was obvious. She looked between his eyes.

"Sure," She said eventually, thinking it would please him if she said something over nothing. People always expressed that sentiment, after all. "It's a big place,"

Pan looked like he was trying to collect himself and gather patience.

"Would you mind explaining to me why you were gone?"

Harriet's expressions smoothened.

"Well, sure, I was out going to Tinker Bell's hut because over here it's all so chaotic, I cannot predict yours or any of your groupie's movements, it's all so random, and I needed to feel safe. Tinker Bell is a creature of habit. Plus, she's got a pretty cool surrounding area – Oh, Pots and Pans, I was so happy when I could predict that she would be taking in the washing!" Her face blossomed into a happy grin.

She stopped when she saw that Pan was frozen. Well, to her frozen. His eyes were drilling into her. She raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Why is this a big deal?"

"I thought you were happy here." The boy sighed colossally.

"Happy? Did I state that I was happy?" She looked around. "As soon as I'm happy, I'll state so."

Harriet studied her Pots and Pans, and thought maybe he must be feeling hungry. She looked over the camp, and concluded that that didn't make sense because all of breakfast was gone. She looked at his stomach – it must be full. Indigestion?

He clenched his jaw and suddenly turned away from her.

"Are you hungry?" She stepped after him. "I can make some more food if you want…"

He stopped, and turned and looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"Is that a yes? Is that a no?" She asked hopefully.

But Pan turned around and stormed off.

She blinked and decided to tend to the boys.

* * *

Harriet sat on a log at camp, truly and deeply disappointed that Felix didn't like what she said. She was analyzing the situation and trying to figure out why he wouldn't – her heart sagged deeper into unhappiness. Her sewing was suffering from it. Her foot began writing the alphabet like she had taught the boys, just the first few letters, over and over and over again to try to calm herself, but it wasn't working. She worked her ankle in small circles and rocked, timing her sewing with the rest of her body. She grew frustrated when that wouldn't lift the weight from her heart. She stopped rocking and moving her ankle in circles, putting a hand nonchalantly to her forehead. It was a different kind of sadness that she couldn't cry out – tears wouldn't come. This type of sadness she'd have to wear the sting for a while.

"You just made him mad – nothing to get upset about," said a slow voice near her. Harriet whipped around to see Felix standing near her log with a club in his shoulder. She blinked.

"It's not about that – I'm mad it didn't impress you!" She sighed exasperatedly, looking at her sewing. "I can't understand why you didn't like what I talked about!"

His brow furrowed.

"About what?"

"The 'e's!"

She moved her tongue around her teeth as she examined the cloak in her hand, gosh it was Horin's… that boy, how frequently his clothes needed repair… She laid it on the 'done' pile and picked up another one, re-threading her needle and beginning to rock as she sewed, shoulders hunched. Horin would need a new cloak soon…

"I'm sorry, it was very nice," He said.

She looked up at him fully.

"I think that's pity," She thought aloud, returning to her sewing with a neutral expression. He said nothing. She held up the cloak to see if she'd missed any holes and checking the durability of her stitches, before she folded the cloak neatly and put it on the pile.

* * *

Pan looked across the camp. There she was, the girl who made him nervous. The one who made his palms sweat and butterflies come to his stomach, his pupils dilate.

When she first arrived, he'd steered clear of her for a few days – ignored her. He watched her, didn't know how to interact with her, what to say to her. But then he couldn't control it anymore, he had to interact with her, talk to her, find out more about her.

* * *

_"Going to Tinker Bell's hut now,"_

_Pan looked surprised as Harriet made her way to the right of the camp towards the trees. His look of shock altered as his eyes changed and his jaw clenched. His fists clenched harshly by his sides and he whipped around to face her._

_"You can't leave." He said harshly, accusatorily, voice was low and yet loud. He hoped that his voice didn't betray the loud emotion in his eyes._

_She didn't stop, however, and he couldn't let her leave, not after he just brought her here, not after he only just got her, and at his command the Lost Boys blocked her path._

* * *

"Felix."

Pan appeared before them both. The bigger boy got up and left when Pan looked at him. Harriet never looked up except after seeing him, focusing on sewing. It was her job, after all. She needed projects, things to throw her focus in and lose herself in. God, _damn it, _she was still so upset about Felix not getting her trail of thought. _MAN!_

Pan thought she was ignoring him.

"You two seem to be getting cozy," He remarked. She looked up at him in obvious surprise.

"You mean to ingratiate oneself with? Or the comfort definition? Of the word, I mean?"

He gave her a look. She always managed to say things that he didn't expect. It always threw him off. Did she do it on purpose or was it just the way she was?

She seemed to take in his look and said slowly,

"I think you think I'm being funny when I say things like this, but I'm actually being serious," She said matter-of-factly. She looked down at her work but never actually made a stitch. She sniffed quietly. She looked up at him again as the thought occurred to her. "Or do you mean in the intimate way? I don't know, you see, unless you tell me. These things don't come naturally to me. You have to be unnaturally specific."

He took a seat next to her, his hands together between his open knees. She dragged her eyes up to look at him questionably – he looked like he wanted to say something. But eh, she could be wrong. She didn't know why she kept trying to guess – she just wanted to get it right for once. At the very least, there looked like there was _something _going on inside.

"I have the distinct feeling that you're not listening," She said to him, staring.

But he'd also sat right on the pile of cloaks, and her eyes were drawn to it and she grew agitated by the combination of shapes put together – the right angle of his body, combined with the brown and green thing he was wearing, on the brown cloaks the way they were jutting out. It was a disaster. Harriet meekly pulled the pile of cloaks out from under him like she was afraid the image would swallow her up whole.

Pan sighed.

"Stay away from my boys, Harriet."

But Harriet was too busy feeling rocked inside, trying to control her breathing and expel the image from her mind. Once the cloaks were safely in her lap, she tried to calm herself down, looking around the camp and seeing for the first time that some boys were looking over but they looked away when they saw her looking. Weirdos.

Then she computed his statement.

"Stay _away _from them? When you're the one who wanted me to be their mother in the first place?"

"You _know _what I mean."

"No I don't." She looked at him calmly. "I don't – you have to explicitly say things before I understand what you mean. I don't just pluck things from air, you know. Do you think I should go with the blanket stitch here or with the normal one?" She showed him the cloak helpfully. She looked up at him. "I seem to make you angry a lot. I don't know why you keep me here."

It struck a cord with him, and his back straightened.

"You're here because I brought you here."

"Well that's logic. But that doesn't explain anything now does it?" She gave him eye contact. He tried to keep eye contact even after she went with the blanket stitch.

She looked up at him and leaned in, giving him a peck on the cheek.

"There, feel better?" She asked. "Physical affection should make people feel better. Doesn't work with me, but works with people." She looked blankly back down to the stitches, and accidentally pricked herself. Good grief, would this always be this difficult? Why did she find this so difficult and prick herself all the time? She scowled down at the fabric irritatedly. She _still _pricked herself after doing this a thousand times!

He left not too long after, Harriet rolling her shoulder.

"Mal," She said commandingly as the boy walked past. "Here," She smacked the cloak to his chest. He 'oof'ed but grinned and took his cloak from her, unfolding it and putting it on as he walked away, immediately another boy tackling him into the dirt and rolling around in it while play fighting.

_Why do I bother?_

* * *

I want to put down here that everyone in my story has a gap in their POV - they don't notice everything! Haha. It's flawed, like ours is in real life.


	10. S1E9

Definitely some T stuff in here. Forewarned, you are.

Just saying also, I know I said this in the summary, but it's easy to forget. This IS a different story. It's different. It's not going to be mainstream at all.

* * *

_Pan smirked._

_As soon as she'd 'agreed', the boys immediately changed. One approached her which made Harriet stiffen in surprise and lean away, but he only undid the ropes around her wrists which she raised an eyebrow at because she had forgotten about it._

"_Nice to meet you, mother!" He hugged her, and she patted his arm with one hand._

"_Boys! Time to show mother around!" yelled Pan to everyone, and then it was a flurry of colors and cloaks as they whisked her to the tree house and showed her around. Harriet was surprised by the welcome because her first thought when she had been kidnapped was that they were going to have her for a cannibalistic dinner, then now they are welcoming her with open arms and showing her the fort. It was odd. The whole place basically – was a mess. She couldn't even rebuff her new role because of so much new stimuli/input._

_She was bored by the end of it, but managed to hold on from doing what she really wanted to do. She took in the area, a bit bored by the whooping and shouting, but let it happen because she couldn't go ordering around people right after she just met them. She could stare at her Pots and Pans, too, when she got the time. She liked the way light reflected off his face at the right angles._

_Once it was over, which she managed to hurry towards the end of it (she got the gist of everything), she went back into the tree house, rolling up her sleeves._

* * *

Things were going as planned. Pan was pleased.

* * *

_She looked up at him and leaned in, giving him a peck on the cheek._

"_There, feel better?" She asked. "Physical affection should make people feel better. Doesn't work with me, but works with people." She looked blankly back down to the stitches, and accidentally pricked herself. Good grief, would this always be this difficult? Why did she find this so difficult and prick herself all the time? She scowled down at the fabric irritatedly. She still pricked herself after doing this a thousand times!_

_She felt a hand on her shoulder but didn't stiffen until she felt something warm on her neck. Then he was gone. She rolled her shoulder. Her mind was distracted slightly from her sewing when the wind blew and it made a spot on her neck sensitive._

* * *

"_I'm going out to get some breakfast. I didn't exactly get enough for two people yesterday." Tinker Bell chuckled, looking at the girl who was staring out of the front door. "Nice day, isn't it?"_

"_Quite."_

"_Stay here, okay? And don't wonder off. I'll be back soon,"_

_Tink glanced back one more time as her hut grew more distant, remembering the words she spoke to her.  
_

"_I've been spying on you. Not many that he captures get as far away from him to get anywhere near where I live." Tinker Bell hollowly chuckled that morning. "And somehow, you managed to shake me off. I had to find you again – curiosity, I guess."_

"_Pan knows you're here. So be careful."_

* * *

Tinker Bell went out after the third night she saw Harriet, and looked around, just in case she was there. She went to her clothes when she saw no one.

Harriet stepped out of the shadows.

"Hi."

Tinker Bell jumped.

"You still startle me! Why can't I ever catch you?"

Harriet's expression opened up into a pleased and delighted smile.

"Oh, nonsense! You're getting better at this! You actually looked at me! I'm so happy about that!"

"…Why are you happy about that?" Tinker Bell was confused, had a rare moment about pondering what Harriet said.

Harriet looked put out by the question.

"Because you need to be able to do that. It's only competency." She said as if it was obvious. You needed to be able to detect when your friend was near, right?

Tinker Bell smiled, warming up.

"Well, I had a _feeling _you were there -"

"Well I totally was!" She grinned, laughing.

Tinker Bell couldn't help the smile on her face.

"You're getting this!"

Tinker Bell sighed happily, she hadn't been expecting, but she had been hoping, that Harriet would come. The girl always knew how to make her smile, it was like, wherever she was, she was a bright light that lifted her up.

"Is this going to be our routine now?" Tinker Bell said to the girl, who stood quietly.

Harriet looked over her.

"Does this bother you?"

"I keep thinking what will happen when you go back to Pan."

Harriet tilted her head.

"It's just where I stay for right now. There's no need to analyze it too much. It will all be okay."

Tinker Bell sighed.

"Is this how I'm always going to see you? When you sneak out at night?"

Harriet looked surprised.

"Well, I don't have to come. I quite enjoyed seeing you - … I didn't really notice, I guess, the circumstances of how it happened." She raised an eyebrow to herself as this occurred to her. "I quite enjoyed it. I just wanted to see you."

Tinker Bell quickly covered for herself, not at all meaning it to come out that way,

"No what I meant was, I wished it was a better way."

Harriet looked at her for a long time.

"Why?" She asked curiously and doubtfully.

Tinker Bell couldn't believe she had to explain something like this – it was obvious, wasn't it? This made her uncomfortable, made her doubt herself.

"Well, it would be happier, to see you in the daytime…"

At this the furrow in Harriet's brow flattened.

"Oh! It would be fun, but I don't see how it would affect your feelings in that way. I don't see how it's any different, I mean," Her foot scuffed the door gently. "But, that's you."

Tinker Bell stared at Harriet for a long time and just shook her head. She collected her dry clothes.

"Tinker Bell," The ex-fairy stopped, finding it odd the other girl used her name. It just never happened. "Do you hear those things at night?"

"What things?" Tinker Bell said, turning around.

"Those voices – those cries, those weeps, those sorrows!" She said dramatically, then plainly, the change so quick it was comical, "At night."

Tinker Bell's eyes swiveled as she tried to pin in her memory what Harriet was talking about.

"The voices - the children."

"I don't hear anything. Maybe you _are _crazy?" Tinker Bell teased.

Harriet tensed up ram-rod straight like a wire, fists clenching by her sides, going white and her eyes on the floor like she was lost in a memory.

"Don't say things like that, Tinker Bell." said Harriet darkly, but she wasn't looking at her, she was looking at an undesignated spot on the ground. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Tinker Bell sobered and apologized, seeing how affected her friend was. Harriet continued looking at the ground. Slowly the ex-fairy continued to collect her dry clothes and eventually went inside.

"It was just a joke," She said before she went inside.

"Everything's just a joke," Harriet whispered to herself, frozen and feeling completely lost – adrift across a mental sea. She lost all sense of time and who she was as she stood her in shock. There was nothing going through her head but white noise.

When her escort appeared, Harriet slowly unfroze, but it took a while longer than normal.

The two looked at one another – had a silent understanding. She was going to go and he wouldn't have to force her. Quietly, she followed Felix along the tricky road back to camp.

* * *

Tinker Bell was out hunting for supplies again when she saw someone unfamiliar. It was a Lost Boy. What were they doing out here, on their own? They didn't venture out this far from Pan's camp – unless instructed to. Tinker Bell was going to find out what. She'd survived on this island this long because she found out what Pan was doing and stayed out of it.

She trailed the boy stealthily. But soon, the trail went cold. Tinker Bell couldn't believe it – one minute they were there, then the next minute they were gone, near a clearing where the floor was covered in ivy, but there was no boy in sight anymore. It was dark out, and she couldn't see much at all. Tinker Bell hid in a bush, looking out, trying to see through the darkness, not noticing the person next to her doing the exact same thing she was.

"Who're we looking for?" They whispered.

Tinker Bell shrieked, jumping away, holding a pale, thin hand to her chest. Harriet let go of the fern and swiveled in her crouch, looking down fondly at the girl with her elbow on her knee and her cheek in her hand.

"Harriet?!"

"Yeah?"

Tinker Bell looked up at her confusedly, then sat up.

"What are you_ doing_ here? There's this Lost Boy I'm trying to find – he could be anywhere!"

Harriet's eyes lit up.

"Oh, really? Let's go find him!"

Harriet jumped up, straightening her cloak, and the ex-fairy was about to follow but then she noticed that the cloak on Harriet looked suspiciously just like the one she'd seen on the 'Lost Boy'.

"Why are you wearing that?" Tinker Bell said suspiciously. She wasn't one of _them _now was she? Could she be? Was that possible from her friend?

"Oh, no, I took it from that boy back there." She said easily, inspecting it, then she looked up at Tinker Bell happily, showing off the cloak. "Do you like it? Do you notice any… _stitches _maybe that stand out?"

"What? No."

"Oh." Harriet stood still.

It was an awkward moment. Harriet looked into the forest.

"Wait, _what_? Why did you take it? What did you do to that Lost Boy back there?"

Harriet looked slowly at Tinker Bell like she never thought the question would exit her lips – like it was more likely that Tutankhamen's mystery and the mystery of the pyramids would be solved before Tinker Bell would ask her that kind of a question.

"Oh! I didn't want him walking into my trap! And, to look different. And look at what I found!" She put her hand up a sleeve and pulled out two brown, worn buttons. "He'd been keeping these the whole time! Would've made sewing this closed much easier! Haha!" Horin was so silly.

"Wait, Harriet - I- wait, _what? _Your _trap_?"

"Jeez, Tinker Bell, _yes,_ would you stop looking like a fish for one second and repeating everything I say? I don't appreciate the questions! The boy was following me all the time – it was getting annoying. So I elbow dropped him." She licked her lips.

Tinker Bell looked like she didn't know how to compute that statement.

"What? But – _Harriet – _this is dangerous! You don't want to go against Pan! If he sent him after you then he wants you watched! You don't know what he'll do to you! You don't seem to understand the danger of this situation!"

Harriet was quiet, just staring blankly at Tinker Bell.

"I've been here for… _years! _and I've been telling you over and over what Pan is like, and you just don't seem to be listening to me!"

Harriet kept looking at Tinker Bell unfathomably.

"I was joking."

The ex-fairy's breath hitched in her throat. They stared at one another uncomfortably - or at least, Tinker Bell did to Harriet, Harriet just looked as she always did. Tinker Bell sighed frustratedly and put a hand to her forehead, scratching it.

"He _was _following me, but uh, I just took the cloak. He got lost."

There was a pause.

"I was going to say 'I'm joking', but you exploded."

"I'm sorry."

"Meaningless to apologize. Don't have to. Forgotten already."

"I followed the boy just now because I thought he was someone new to the island, that Pan brought someone new to Neverland."

Harriet leaned forward slightly, saying gently in her low voice,

"Nitwit, this cloak _clearly _belongs to someone _already here._ _One _of the Lost Boys. It's ripped right through."

Although it was said lightly, because Harriet said it Tinker Bell felt embarrassed and stuttered because she didn't know what to say, folding her arms, when another thing occurred to her – something she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"How do you plan to get away from Pan?"

"Don't have a plan," She shrugged. Harriet, of course, was lying, but Tinker Bell didn't need to know that. She couldn't have her plan in the air. Who _knew _who listened. But all this talk reminded Harriet of her plan – which she'd moved away from her working thoughts once she'd figured it all out, the room where they kneed the dough of thought, onto the room of shelves where plans are shelved to be picked up later. No need to think about something once you'd figured it out. It got Harriet thinking, however, this entire conversation, and she moved into the demeanor and tone that made people think she was in a bad mood, but in actuality, she was just thinking.

"Okay, then, let's make a plan." Tinker Bell eyed Harriet when she stiffened ram-rod straight. Tinker Bell continued, "how _did _you get away from Pan? You're not going back right?"

Tinker Bell could sense she was losing Harriet for a while in the conversation, but it was cemented by her response,

"Simple. I walked." Swiveling curtly, Harriet turned and then walked under a large tree nearby like a quiet shadow. Tinker Bell scrambled up to follow.

"You should leave," Harriet said lowly, turning around and fixing the ex-fairy with a stare that made Tinker Bell unconsciously ready to leave, and yet at the same time find it irresistible to go against the warning. Even though the words tumbling out of her mouth were cautionary, Tinker Bell was stricken for a moment by the seriousness in her friend's face. "And never come back." Tinker Bell couldn't decide how she felt about the seriousness she was met again on her friend's face. She inadvertently thought back to when they met.

"W-Why?" Tinker Bell's thoughts raced.

"It's not safe for you here. Just stay away. Do I have to hurt you to make you go away?" Harriet said out loud, each sentence in time with her thinking.

"N-No, Harriet…" Tinker Bell refused. Harriet didn't understand at all, Tinker Bell thought. "Just tell me why and I'll leave." She said. She wanted to help her if her friend was in danger.

If it were any other circumstance, Harriet would have been delighted that her friend was challenging her. Not now, however.

"Leave, and you'll find out why. If you don't leave, I'll hurt you."

Tinker Bell was surprised at the boldness of Harriet, and the unexplainable mood swing.

They were at a standstill. Tinker Bell backed away first, slowly, hands coming up.

"Sorry I came," She said judgmentally. Harriet knew she was using the tone that caused people to think she was in a bad mood, but she wasn't in a bad mood, she was just thinking. And the situation was really serious. She didn't want to hurt Tinker Bell, but if she said anything friendly or inviting Tinker Bell would stay where it was not safe to stay.

Tinker Bell backed away and Harriet felt a compulsive need to erase some of the lack of understanding in her eyes.

"I hadn't meant I'd physically hurt you." Harriet said. "I know me and I know you, which gives me weapons, weapons I can cut you deeper with than any knife I could use."

Tinker Bell's blue eyes took on a new light – like she was stricken, horrified.

Although she didn't understand the statement, the words alone scared her. The girl's face was blank.

She was inhuman!

Tinker Bell gave her a scared look and ran away into the bushes, her steps audible because of her distress – she wasn't concentrating properly, Harriet noted. If she hadn't cared about Tinker Bell, she wouldn't have bothered to even observe her emotions in relation to her decision. It would just never happen. Harriet computed Tinker Bell's importance to her in a second, filing it away.

"Whoo that was awkward," She said to herself. "We _really _had a huge misunderstanding there," She said to herself, taking off.

Harriet walked deep into the ivy covered clearing, her trap, what she had protected Tinker Bell from. She should never come back here now, with a display like that. She wouldn't. Harriet had a theoretical understanding, and that's all she needed - Tinker Bell was safe now. Harriet would be able to see her tomorrow should she so choose. She would be able to see her again, to be able to see the sun reflect off her skin again, even if she never did. To have to do her stupid routine every single day and babble on things Harriet didn't care about and cook things Harriet hated to taste. Tinker Bell's current emotions didn't matter right now – it saved more heartache to get her to go than it would cause to let her stay. If she hadn't cared about Tinker Bell, she wouldn't have bothered to warn her, and would have let her walk right into her trap that wasn't intended for her. Besides, if this all went wrong, she wouldn't see Tinker Bell again.

* * *

Harriet worked quietly in the ivy forest, her work of art almost finished. She couldn't wait to use it.

Harriet felt scared. She'd felt this way several times in her life, events she'd categorized and sealed away. That one night, when the other kids chased her into the lands of a Lord, and she was lost for three days in the forest on her own, scared, alone, cold, without food or water. Terrified of being caught, given the punishment for poaching and trespassing. The kids would have loved that. Terrified of going back to her village, where the kids would be, and the parents would wait. The parents she didn't have.

The night her neighbor's pigs died, and they squealed all night long while Harriet lay in her straw bed, paralyzed from the screams.

The night where, on her travels, they brought a man out of a pub by each arm, the six of them beating him up in the alley and taking his money. She was crouched behind a barrel in an alleyway, caught nearby, trying to be quiet, but not being able to look away. As they stood and left the drunk and passed out man, a shadow came over her heart - one of the thugs looked like _that _man.

Each time she arrived in a new place, having nothing, and having to live and survive by herself, not always sure how she was going to do that, the odds stacked against her.

Yes, Harriet was scared. She acknowledged so in her head, after studying what she was feeling and comparing it with those events. Her face was blank, focused, hands working deftly on her project – careful, methodical, strong. Planning.

The cloak she wore made her feel vulnerable – it was shorter than her original cloak and only came to her knees. She felt more exposed. She was always covered up – nothing of herself showing except her neck and face. And hands. The shorter cloak brought up old things she thought she'd long since buried, made her think about her earliest memories.

When she'd awoken on her first day in Neverland – in her fear she had thought that they had got her, they had sent her away for good, the kids. They somehow found her, caught up to her in her sleep, and transported her away to another land where she would never bother them again. A silly thought, intellectually she knew they were in another world and didn't know where she was, hadn't known for years, but the fear was still there.

This had to work. It had to.

And even if it didn't, it was the hugest stress reliever Harriet had – a project that she threw her entire focus into, a challenge that got her mind working. Something that she birthed, created, a work of art, a machination. Something that occupied every level of her mind, got all the wheels turning in a way nothing else but fierce challenges, and struggle, did.

She would get what she wanted before the day is done.

* * *

Yes, it's a little sad. What's going to happen next chapter? :O

Oh dear, the relationship between Tinker Bell and Harriet is awkward :P


	11. S1E10

Prepare to be dazzled. You'll have to pay attention in this chapter, though. Hold onto your seats.

Thank you for the reviews. I enjoyed them.

* * *

_When she realized what he did to her neck, Harriet ran to the bushes and threw up. She wished she could stomp on his instep and elbow his nose – two of the weakest points on the body. She was _going_ to throw up – and had ran to the bushes to do so – but then thought that would be a horrible waste of resources where she would have to go out and _find_ more to fill up her empty stomach that _emptied_ because of _him_._

_The _dipshit_. That was his _name_._

_She shuddered, feeling shaky and sweaty and pale, her hand shaking in front of her mouth. She threw up a little in her mouth, but she kept it down, because her body needed the glucose, and part of the bigger picture, she needed the rhythm of frequent food. She had enough inconsistencies going on in her life, and past inconsistencies that she remembered all too well._

_Harriet got up off her knees and dusted off the dirt, wiping her mouth and returning to the camp where the boy sat waiting for her to return. She had realized what Pan had done to her neck in the middle of her lesson and had had to split. She returned, detached. This was __**never, ever**__ going to happen again._

"_Sorry about that," She said quietly to the boys, pulling up her trousers an inch as she sat. "Back to 'g',"_

* * *

Her trap was set.

It took oil that took forever to find, what felt like barrels of rope, but in actual fact it was just a small bit that could fill a bucket, sewing thread, a tiki torch that was made out of a half made spear wrapped in her old shirt that she'd worn to Pan's camp, seaweed, a broom, a shovel, a few bowls, spoons, and spears made by Felix.

It took a while to assemble everything – which she did so in her frequent and 'innocent' trips to Tinker Bell's hut. She'd taken things with her from Pan's camp each time, hid it under her cloak, deposited it in her chosen area - the ivy clearing - on her nightly walk, then she'd round back to Tinker Bell's hut and she'd taken a few things from there too. After all, these people knew how to survive here and how to get more of it. Harriet didn't. She only needed it once. After this, she'd never need it again in this way.

It took her several nights to get all the equipment she needed, which she began the night after she decided she'd had enough – Pan's kiss pushing her over the edge. Everything was ridiculous – utterly ridiculous.

Harriet twirled Tinker Bell's knife in her fingers as she stood up from her creation, which she'd slipped off Tinker Bell's person earlier, and stared down at her finished trap, lost in her thoughts.

How she wished Tinker Bell could be here so she could share it with her, but Tinker Bell would step on the wrong place, no matter how dainty she was, and then she'd get hurt. It was best that Harriet had sent her away – it was guaranteed then that the ex-fairy would see another day, which Harriet wanted. Harriet even wished Pan was here so she'd be able to show him, but this was for him anyway – no, it wasn't for him, it was for _her, _but it was to show him too - and he probably wouldn't be able to appreciate all the intricate detail and amount of planning and work that went into it to create it.

Harriet sniffed out of feeling cold, but felt emotionless. They'd come after her soon when she doesn't come back with the boy that was sent after her, and when he himself does not return to report her 'missing'. She knew that would happen – eventually, because of her 'good behavior', Pan would start sending other boys to make sure Harriet returned – Felix, after all, was his right hand man and could handle more duties with responsibility – and Harriet had counted on that. She couldn't surprise a boy like Felix – but a boy that thought she would cooperate, yes, she could knock him out. Felix was too seasoned, too hardened, too experienced, for her to trick.

She quickly checked everything was ready – before turning and leaving with a slow gait, shoulders swinging, to get ready.

* * *

When Harriet didn't return from one of her nightly visits to Tinker Bell's hut, Pan was sitting on a log silently, tuning into Neverland. He turned his head.

"Boys," Felix looked surprised when Pan stood up to address everyone. "looks like we're going to have an adventure. Mother's playing a game. Felix, take them out. I'll be on my way shortly."

Felix nodded and stood.

* * *

The tracks were definitely Harriet's.

"She went this way," One of the Lost Boys said, and they followed the tracks.

There was no effort to cover them, which made Felix think there were complications down the road with the boy sent to bring her back.

The boys grouped out of the brush into a clearing where the tracks ran through, following it quietly.

Suddenly, Felix's arm darted out to stop one of the less experienced recruit's from treading on a patch of obviously out of place grass.

"Stop," He said to everyone. They immediately listened. Felix slowly crouched, and pulled away the blanket of grass, the other boys watching, the cover coming up with his fingers to reveal a small pit beneath it where the boy would have fallen through. Felix looked at the boy who was about to step on it, who looked at him.

Who knew what other obvious things were out there that Felix would have to save the other boys from, that the less experienced ones would fall for, then he wouldn't be able to do his job and find the girl like Pan wanted, because he'd be too busy supervising the others.

"Stay here," The right hand man to Pan stood. He disappeared into the brush.

* * *

She didn't know how long she waited – how long she was still for. Eventually, a boy came out into the clearing and into her line of sight. He had straw like hair that poked out of his hood, a club on his shoulder, and a slow gait.

He smirked at the girl sitting innocently on a branch in a tree, out in the open, with nothing to defend herself with, which he could see because of the open space she was in and how she was holding one calf with both her hands to her torso. How stupid of her. So obvious. This would be over so soon.

The two stared at each other.

"Next time you wanna set a trap, princess," He threw the obviously and poorly stitched leaves down on the ground. "do a better job." His voice dripped condescension. "If you're so obvious like that, you'll never be a Lost Girl. This attempt is like childsplay. In fact, worse. I've seen our newest recruit do better at concealing a trap than you."

If she was bothered, she didn't show it. She didn't move under his scrutiny.

He twirled a piece of grass between his teeth, never removing his eyes from her.

"You should come down, princess. Pan's worried about you."

She said nothing, just staring at him unfathomably. He was unable to tell anything from her face.

"Now come on down, princess, before things get ugly. This attempt at rebellion is childish. You'll never get off the island."

"Without Pan's permission." She supplied, sounding like she always did – factual, logical.

His eyes narrowed.

She tilted her head slowly, trying to guess what he was thinking.

He had similar thoughts as her, only he believed his observations.

"If this is a way of annoying him, you're only annoying me right now."

Harriet's face blossomed into a smile at his statement. Oh, how funny, he was! The first three words he used had an 'I', the three words after the comma having an 'o' in each word, the last three words had a total of ten letters, which combined with spaces made thirteen characters, and thirteen was her favorite number. Did he know that thirteen was the only number in the 'teens' that did _not _have a letter before 'teen' that repeated itself? Except for fourteen and eighteen. But who cared about fourteen and eighteen? Eight was double four. Nothing was double 3 – except 6, but no one cared about six.

"Do you know what your statement and thirteen have in common?" She said with a deranged smile. "_Nothing!_" She whispered saucily, like she'd revealed a huge mystery, her voice then returning to normal. "Except that your statement is made up of 52 letters, which is divisible by two, which is divisible by two, to make thirteen. Hahaaa!"

Felix was still, twine paused in his mouth – trying to fathom how their conversation went from trying to get her down from the tree, to talking about numbers and comparing them with his words. How did _numbers _and _words _go together in the first place? From what he remembered back in his old home – before Neverland, in whatever schooling he had, he couldn't remember, they didn't teach them that they ever crossed realms.

Slowly Felix's look of thought returned to his eyes and the twine began to move again in his mouth as his tongue fiddled with it behind his teeth.

That was a pretty good idea though, Harriet thought. … Annoy Pan until he sends her home… Gah. She wished she thought of that. That was probably… fifty times easier than what she was currently trying to do. She annoyed people pretty easily, apparently. Who knew, right? But back to the statement she had to reason with – or she would just repeat it over and over later and it would affect the execution of her plan -

"No, no, no, Felix, you said, 'you'll never get off this island', but it was an incomplete truth, that I finished for you with 'without Pan's permission'. That is correct, isn't it?" She continued talking before she could stop herself, so happy that her mind could be working, her mouth just moving with it, the saliva in her mouth working more than it had in a while. "If he can watch everyone and _see _everyone then he clearly has run of the works. And if he has run of the works, well, it's only logical that he can say who comes and who stays. Furthermore, that is supported by, he is the only one who seems to know me _prior _to my being here – which further cements this theory, as I have just said." She may have over-killed it, she thought, looking at Felix's face. Maybe he was hungry? God, did she _not _make enough food that morning? She felt like she was up to her hairline in food, at that camp. That stupid camp.

Felix just slowly shook his head.

"I'll never understand you."

She didn't say anything, because there was no question in there, so it didn't require an answer. Besides, she needed to chop-chop.

Her lack of replying seemed to annoy him further.

"Come down now, princess. Don't waste my time." He warned.

Harriet found herself speaking before she could stop herself.

"Oh because you have more important things to do? All I ever see you doing is what Pan wants. Pan wants this, Pan wants that, oh Felix go do that. You don't have a job or anything. I mean, I see you make spears? But how many of those can you make before the quantity exceeds the demand and then you're out of a job? Then you're drop kicked off the island? Oh how I envy you. So far, the most interesting thing for you to do around here is either stare at the sky, or chase me. Now which one do you want to do?"

That was it. The heavy boy stepped forward to climb the tree and bring the girl down by force, but it was Harriet's turn and her arm was a blur.

He heard a _snikt_ and he had a split second to see a knife embed itself in the earth, where he'd never seen a rope concealed because he was too focused on her and the next thing he knew he was yanked harshly into the air and dangled upside down by his ankle, where the rope tied him tautly to a tree branch.

Harriet's feet thudded as she landed on the ground, her cloak poofing. She deftly slid the knife from the earth and pocketed it, Tinker Bell's knife, she thought consciously, before staring at Felix soberly as he swayed slightly in the air upside down.

Felix was frozen in shock, but realization came over him quickly and he grinned, composure back.

She kicked his fallen club away from him with her foot.

"Inventive. Set a fake trap so I'd fall right into the real one. You'd make a good Lost Girl after all," He said as he slowly turned while dangling. "Taunt me until I fell in. Never saw it coming," He chuckled.

Harriet looked at him like he was an alien.

"I was being perfectly serious." She said, bending down to pick up his club. She looked over it oddly, pinching it between the pads of her fingers, and then threw it away like she was getting rid of poop, dusting her hands afterwards and pulling her arms back under her original cloak – under which, she wore her very original clothes which she arrived in Neverland in. Taken from Tinker Bell's hut herself.

"Actually, it was placed like that on purpose so that you would leave the rest of the Lost Boys behind, because I _know _you and how you think, and you're methodical and practical, and you wouldn't want anyone to get in your way and endanger the way you do things," She said, staring at him intensely. "So I placed the deliberately shoddy piece of work – I mean, come _on, _I stitch up your cloaks every day – which, ooh, by the way, I took Horin's cloak, and I've been rolling around in the dirt in it all day and the stitches haven't even come out! Isn't that amazing?!" She grinned brightly.

She sobered.

"You know, this was the only part of my plan I thought had a real chance of failing." She said. "But I suppose it can fail at any point, really. I can't believe it worked. You know, I knew you'd come on your own, but I never expected the level of your arrogance… I thought you set aside your ego to get the job done, and everything would fail. I'm so _glad _you didn't know me well! Because then we'd be in a totally different situation, and that would suck!" She grinned at him.

She looked like she was about to hop away, but turned back,

"Oh, um, I thought you would be the most difficult to trick, which is why, in case the plan went awry – well, the most contingency plans were centered around this event. This is the turning point upon which my plan would have to change. But it looks like everything past here will be a breeze. Bye! Oh, and don't bother about getting the knife from your boot – I switched it last night with a dull, rusty one when you were asleep. Which was _difficult, _you know, because you're such a light sleeper – but I had Caleb do it for a dare because you know how quick and light of hand he is, but anyway, _bye_!" And like a gazelle she bounced away into the bushes, Felix staring after her incredulously as he slowly rotated by the rope around his ankle.

* * *

Harriet had heard from the Lost Boys that basically, no one went against Pan.

As she ran away from Felix, she thought perhaps that's why Felix had gone soft – victory made him soft. And he'd walked into an obvious trap.

* * *

Everything was going as planned, so far. They must have found Felix, because she could practically sense Pan's ire from all the miles away she was from the spot she'd left him. She chuckled deeply.

She could hear the footsteps now and the hollering of the Lost Boys.

They followed her trail to the ivy clearing, where the final battle would be staged. Hopefully, it wouldn't have to get to that. It was all up to Pan. Harriet would get what she wanted, but it was up to him what way they were going to do this.

* * *

They were all there. Gathered. Assembled.

They'd reached the clearing covered in ivy. The surrounding trees looked darker than normal with the night. There could be traps either in the trees, or under the ivy, Pan thought. The Lost Boys stayed back. Pan surveyed the area and the figure standing in the middle of the ivy, all attention drawn to her- the lone figure in the center. A single vine hung down from the multitude of hanging trees above the clearing near her form.

Pan looked up at her under his eyebrows, a fist on his hip. He looked stormy.

"Come out of there, Harriet. You don't want to do what you're doing."

"Yes I do," She nodded clearly. "Otherwise, I wouldn't do it."

"Get her," Pan commanded.

Instantly the Lost Boys stepped forward to try and get her but there was a trip wire, made by her sewing thread, and low and behold, from the heavens dropped oil that splattered onto their heads and shoulders with a quick, sickly slap, the bowls that used to be utilized for their grub dangled from the tree branch above them, empty.

Harriet held a coy smile on her lips that was strange, and almost flirtatious,to see.

"Oooh dear." She said, looking them over.

"Alright," She said mightily, pulling out the tiki torch she'd made, lighting it on fire by the small, used, dinky dinner bowl of oil next to her. "Here's how this is going to work – I'm not staying here any longer. I am not going to be your prisoner any longer, Pan..."

* * *

He thought that things were going as planned. He thought she was finally coming around. Even though she left often to go to Tinker Bell's hut, since she said she felt safe there, he let it happen. He didn't want to hurt her or make her upset. She seemed to have a handle on her own inner workings, something which was a mystery to him.

But it was being proved right now - the more he knew about her, the less he was sure of.

This – this, he could never have expected. He never thought she was capable of. He thought he'd pinned her down, figured her out. But it was _more _than that. He thought she _accepted _him, accepted his rule – over Neverland, the Lost Boys, and her.

When his Lost Boys went to her for comfort, it was meant to make her melt. Make her stay. Build an emotional bond to them. It worked with the last mother – they gave her goo-goo eyes and she'd turn to putty. She couldn't leave them. Pan knew - he _saw _everything that Harriet did, took on, put up with for the Lost Boys. Yet that didn't seem to stop her from defying him, doing what she wanted, standing in front of him, asserting herself.

He thought she would melt immediately to the boys, to him, like normal girls did. Normal girls did not survive in Neverland – they cried, they screamed, they whined. They broke.

She had never been like that, however, and Pan had known that the minute he met her.

Deep down, he'd known that she would follow her own way, Pan supposed. She'd follow her own way, do what she thought was right. And right now, that seemed to be defying him in every way possible.

Harriet waved a flaming torch at him scoldingly, after she was finished, saying in her light, bubbly tone,

"Boys don't touch their mothers like that, Peter," She shook the torch at him. "That's disgusting, and doesn't happen in the family,"

She protested his touch. He felt a multitude of emotions over that. He didn't care to sort them out right now – focused on the girl in front of him.

Pan raised his chin, smirking devilishly.

"Oh, didn't I tell you? I'm your husband, not your son, in our little game… Or did I leave that part out?"

Amusement rippled over the Lost Boys at the fallen look on Harriet's face. She looked utterly surprised, dumbstruck, and a little embarrassed. _They _all knew that, what Pan had just said. They knew she was the mother and he was the father.

* * *

Harriet was embarrassed that she was so wrong in front of so many people. Gosh, talk about a role change! She'd seen him as, well, she didn't know. Not as her 'child', not as her captor, not as a friend. She didn't have a particular role she cast for him. He was just, Peter. Her Pots and Pans. Never her 'husband'.

He'd like that, wouldn't he? The thought entered her head, because people smiled like that, with that look in their eye, when they had a good emotion going on, and she blinked at the concept. She hadn't considered the possibility before. But he wouldn't like it, would he? _Could_ he? Could things like that happen? What a weirdo.

"Well, good thing I never agreed to the deal in the first place! Or we'd really be in a pickle! And I'd be letting you all down with my pyromaniac display!" She pointed the torch individually at each head of the Lost Boys, minus the two in the center, Pan and Felix, who all eyed her lit torch.

Pan chuckled, masking his worry and took a step forward.

"Now don't say things like that, darling, you'll make the children upset," He teased. She glowered at him. She hated this game.

Pan wasn't listening, she thought. She'd _just _explained what she wanted to him! And there he was, just standing and looking at her from underneath his brows – his thoughts, unfathomable.

Harriet didn't want to leave the island specifically, she was just tired of her situation. Pan had given her a crappy deal, one she never agreed to, and then kept her prisoner while he never came up with a better one. That's just bad business, you see. She was tired of being a prisoner, tired of doing what Pan wanted – be a mother, stay away – no! She wanted her _own _territory, her_ own _freedom – _without _Pan, who liked to kiss things he didn't have permission to kiss, and she wanted it _today. _She wasn't going to take another day of being Pan's prisoner, especially when she could _do something about it._

She didn't want to leave the island so much because she'd already made a home here – it was too much to settle in a place and then just up and leave – never mind her uprooted roots!

No, Neverland was her home, whether she emotionally liked the island or not. In fact, she didn't particularly like Neverland. But she also didn't hate it. It was just her home, like any other home, and the word didn't mean much to her anyway and she had an intellectual understanding that it was her home, she guessed. It had a pretty cool sunset, though.

"You always surprise me. I can never predict you." He accused, like it was all her fault, once she finished speaking.

Harriet mentally returned to the clearing and seemed surprised that the statement had come out of his mouth – like it was honestly the last thing she expected him to say. She then had a reply to say to that, but then thought it was inadequate, and then she didn't know what to say. What _does _one say to something like that - 'I can never predict you'? 'You always surprise me', like she cared? But the other half of the statement, although it didn't move her whatsoever, or even effect her or tug on her heart, it made her intellectually confused to try and wrap her brain around it.

Harriet smiled at her own confusion, bursting into peals of laughter in her head, turning her head away with the smile on her lips, all because it was such an odd feeling – a happy, excited kind of confused that made her smile every time she felt it. It was a ticklish feeling. And nice, to feel that in the middle of a situation that could, potentially, go bad. She knew it would be an asset that would keep her going – a feel good emotion that she'd need and that she'd obsessively hold on to and repeat throughout this exchange.

And it was weird – she thought she was being quite fair with them. She hadn't lit anyone on fire yet.

She thought of Tinker Bell, and Tinker Bell's reaction to her when she stated her thoughts in that way - when she thought of things so theoretically, and the other girl found her emotionless, cold, inhuman. Not that she cared what the girl thought of her, but she had a brief moment of wondering what the other girl's opinion would be to this. Harriet didn't know. She felt a tug of curiosity in her heart, wanting to know... just what _would _she think of this? She didn't care what the _actual _opinion was, she was just curious to see the other girls' reaction.

* * *

Pan looked her over.

She was cute, but this game was too clever and dangerous now. Too many things could go wrong. It was bigger than he thought it'd be, too well thought out to be easily diffused. It had been cute in the beginning, mother had just been playing a little game, and he'd been amused. He didn't know it would turn out to be this big – this well thought out. How she'd trick his right hand man, and even somehow blind _him _into seeing less than he normally did. He, who was _in tune _with Neverland. She'd known how they'd think before they did, and had planted things along their path so they'd be herded to her, and they'd stay. Now they were doused in oil, his Lost Boys, with the torch in her hand. This was dangerous. One wrong move, and everything would fall to pieces.

She was talking about leaving, talking about not seeing him again. Talking about him never touching her, being able to talk to her, being able to see her again.

"You're not leaving Neverland." Peter said ferociously, jaw clenching.

* * *

Harriet was pulled out of her thoughts again, feeling irritated that her journey of knowledge was interrupted, and then stared hard at Pan.

"You're not listening," She said, bending down to the dinky bowl of oil next to her, and before anyone could say anything she poured the remaining contents over her own head.

Pan's eyes widened and his world narrowed into focus around her.

* * *

The clear liquid dripped down her hair and even splattered on her shoulders, thick drops falling to claim her clothes like a hand. The oil made her skin shiny when she used a defined hand to smear it over her face and neck, then her individual arms. She shuddered for some reason, and looked over the shininess of her skin.

"You always thought you caught me, Peter Pan," She said, blinking owlishly. "Always thought I was your prisoner. But in reality, my power was never dictated by you," Eyes piercing his, she raised the torch to a dangling vine above her. "_I _own myself."

She watched him. Her eyes were deep and dark, like that of a great white shark. They were hollow, yet they saw so much. Her shiny skin, her dark eyes, and the flickering of the light on her face from her torch. The highness of her cheekbones, her eyelashes, the shape of her brows, her straight lips. She grinned.

"This vine is connected to all the explosives in the area. Once this fire touches it, everything will go up in fire, including all of us. Now tell me again, _where _will I be sleeping tonight?"

* * *

Hope you enjoyed it. If you think this is :o shocking, just wait.


	12. S1E11

Okay, just saying, whenever Harriet or Pan or anyone in my story says something and then does the opposite, it's on purpose, it's not forgetfulness on the writers part.

When I said in the last chapter in the author's note, if you thought that was shocking, just wait. Well, you'll find out. But this chapter isn't the end of it. You're going to ride the wagon for a few more chapters, I'm afraid.

This is a complicated chapter. Delicate. It took forever to get it right.

Wow, I am happy about the reviews! Thank you again to the guest(s) and the fanfiction members who have been loyal reviewers, also, thank you for the guest that keeps appearing, and gave me that 'reminder' in a review - thank you so much! I appreciate it! Reading it put a smile on my face.

* * *

Harriet stared hollowly at Pan, who was looking at her with a furrowed brow, like the staring contest meant something dramatic when it didn't.

Ah, yes, she had his attention. When it had just been him and his Lost Boys doused in oil, he hadn't looked so worried. But when Harriet had joined in, oh, it was like panic. Beautiful, beautiful panic. _That one _she recognized upon his face. She knew it too many times on her own face, and others. It was the face people pulled when they decided something was about to go wrong, or a way they didn't want. She didn't think so much on the emotion, she just thought people's faces were beautiful when they brought on the expression of 'panic'. The skin shined more clearly, the muscles bunched differently under the skin, the eyes were wider, easier to see… It was just pretty.

And simultaneously, she felt disgusted if she ever realized she was staring at a _face _too long. God, she hated looking at faces. Thinking about it, talking about it, made her nauseous.

She liked so much to make other people's faces change – liked to see the different expressions it could make. She didn't care for the reason or the meaning of the emotion, just liked to see it change. Liked to see the variety of expressions that could happen upon a person's face. She didn't care what she had to do to accomplish it, or what the person said while the facial muscles fixed/locked in an expression. She liked to see what ways it could move, the ways it could look different. She'd paired the panicked expression with 'beautiful' because the panicked expression and the word 'beautiful' were both beautiful to look at - you know, when she didn't think that they were scared.

Harriet frequently forgot that other people felt emotions, which is why it was only when their faces moved dramatically did she realize they might be alive. It made her sometimes do things others wouldn't – just to see if the person was alive. If there was a person inside. People were walking shapes to Harriet, bodies made up of muscle, tissue, bone. People were circles and squares, rectangles, triangles and polygons. But what she could not see, she could not understand, with people. They looked like vessels to her, walking around, and that scared her. The movements looked random, she could not predict their behavior or understand their intentions. It was only when the vessels would say 'I'm scared', 'I'm angry', 'I'm hungry' that she would feel safe, and she would know what they were doing – what their motivations were. Not that anybody cared all that much. Seriously, it wasn't like, a revolutionary concept. She didn't particularly care too much about it. But when she would do things deliberately to make people's faces change, just to see their reaction, it was never about who she was. Some people – it was about them _being the one to do something. _It was never like that for Harriet. She didn't matter. She was erased from her thoughts when she was trying to do something. Everything was erased from the picture, when she was trying to do something. She had tunnel vision. She only saw what she was doing. She sometimes forgot she even had her _own _emotions, let alone remembering what others would feel like. It just, never, ever occurred to her. Unless she was going through something stressful, then she'd be feeling it all over the place. It sometimes made Harriet scared of herself.

As the Lost Boys' expressions changed to one of horror and worry, Harriet looked over them, and decided that they were being very emotional about this. Yet, at the same time, she felt pleased in her heart that she'd gotten their facial expressions to change. It made a strange smile curl to her lips. And yet, still, she didn't think too much on what they were thinking and feeling.

Maybe Pan thought if she would be left alive, he'd have a legacy? And when she threatened to join them in the fire, there'd be nothing of him left? Well, sure, if you're blown sky high, there _won't _beanything left. But, what she meant was, nothing to let him live on. After all, if one person survived his name would live on, in stories. And that would be Harriet. Perhaps that was his thinking. Perhaps the rest of the Lost Boys were in on it too, and that's why they were worried/upset.

"It's cool, you guys, don't worry. I'm sure you've ruined enough people's lives that they would remember you," She spoke to Pan, trying to help.

* * *

The Lost Boys, they were surprised when they had to chase after Harriet. She'd taken on the role of mother in everything but name, and people just listened to Pan when they told them things. They didn't expect her to rebel or to leave, and yet here she was before them – the escapee in the flesh they had been after. No one had given Pan such a run for his money before. Some of them guffawed or snickered at her words, because it was like she dared to _insult _him on top of everything. The snickering went right over Harriet's head.

* * *

Peter's jaw clenched, something Harriet noticed he did a lot, not that it mattered. He blinked. He could never understand where her thoughts came from. He ignored her words, and focused on the more important matter at hand. He had to get Harriet to put the torch down, and come out, and walk away, where they would all be safe. Where _Harriet _would be safe.

"That won't happen. Not on _my _island. And you're not leaving Neverland - ever." Pan said coldly, deadly serious. Harriet hadn't been listening, but couldn't switch her ears off.

"Mm you can repeat it all you want, it's not going to change things," She said, her eyes blinking into clearness. "Besides, I _know _I'm not going to leave Neverland – because I don't want to. Your choice is, we go up tonight in the night in a blaze, or we all live to see another day, parting from one another for a while. I'm not averse to seeing you again, talking to one another every now and then, but I will not be your prisoner anymore or do what you say." Her voice rang out clearly across the clearing.

_It's just boring. _She thought. And another, larger part of her, hated losing her autonomy to someone else.

Her skin itched as the oil started... drying, or something. Whatever it did. It ran a little more into her clothes than she'd given it permission to, and that irritated the heck out of her. It distracted her mind so all it could see was the oil going to places on her skin that only her shower did.

Gosh, she was getting bored of all of this standing around.

Harriet said thoughtfully as she was about to light the vine, not noticing how the Lost Boys seized up, "It took me forever to find the oil for this kind of expedition – haha, _expedition! _Two 'i's, two 'e's!" She grinned at them, doubling over suddenly, laughing in gasping breaths, giggling madly. "And you know what the cross of the 't' and the dot of the 'i's look like?!" She looked at them from her doubled over position, completely losing her epic air from a moment ago. "Like two men are holding onto a stick and they're going to fly away! Just take off and fly away!" She laughed so hard a tear escaped her eye, while her audience looked between them uncertainly – uncertain whether it was supposed to be funny, and also confused because it didn't make sense, they didn't get it.

She suddenly straightened with a gasp, her emotion over.

"Wait."

Her torch kept rising.

"Harriet. I can make you a new deal..." He said like it had all the meaning in the world. He pressed through gritted teeth, "Harriet,"

The torch stopped rising and Harriet looked over when he finally got her attention.

She wondered why he was using her name so much. It was annoying to hear the same repeated syllables over and over.

"You don't have to light it,"

"Oh really?" She pulled the torch away and faced him. "This vine is connected to an intricate network of explosives – now, I wouldn't want to be blown sky high. But it's purely up to _you, _Pan," She said sweetly, before looking him over once, making his body heat up. "My Pots and Pans." She kept calling him that, he had no idea what it meant, but if he was hers...

She didn't know what was going on behind his eyes – his face had been one of panic, worry, open shock a minute ago. Then in their talk it had hardened into a frozen expression, eyes glassy and going dark, jaw set. Now his eyes were different, _like_ he was enraged, but not quite close, and there was a bit of pink on his cheeks. This boy was a mood ring. She didn't know what any of it meant. His gaze changed again after, what she guessed, being in thought. This one she didn't bother to try to figure out, because he was so complicated in the face.

"Come out now, Harriet. Don't do something you'll regret. Come out now, or I'll come in there and get you."

Ew.

She saw something in his eyes that made the inner working cogs of her mind start moving slightly faster. He knew something that could defeat her. He knew a way she could be foiled. She'd have to adjust.

"I'm not kidding, you know. I _will _light this thing," She assured them all with an affirmative nod.

Felix smirked, and Harriet wondered if maybe she was losing them. Was she losing her sense of superiority right now? What happened?

She waited a beat.

Nothing happened.

He never moved.

"Alright, this is done," And unhesitantly, the torch touched the single vine, and the fire licked it up eagerly. It was over in a matter of seconds like a fuse to dynamite, with only one touch, everything went up in fireworks.

* * *

Everything went up in flames.

Pan's magic immediately set out to tame the fire, a blue wave of light dispelling every flame before it could touch anyone, smoke rising from the ground like vapor and filling the clearing like air in a jar.

Pan spied a body on the floor where Harriet had been standing, and felt his heart stop. He raced over the now burned black ground and picked up the body, pulling it into his arms and he ran out of the smoke filled clearing. While his Lost Boys coughed from the smoke and recovered from the shock of the fire and trying to process what happened, Pan lay the unconscious body down gently on the ground, trying to investigate whether she was hurt or not, and began to unwrap Harriet from her cloak.

Only it wasn't Harriet that was hidden, but the missing Lost Boy, Horin.

* * *

When everything went up in flames, Harriet dropped to the ground to avoid the fire above. The trees were on fire, several circles in the ivy were on fire… She didn't have the chemicals to make an actual explosion, she didn't know how to do that anyway, but she'd had thread, rope, oil, and fire, and that had been enough. It wasn't an explosion so much, it was more like a blast of fire.

"Harriet!" She had heard as everything went up in flames. She wondered in the back of her mind with a furrowed brow if that was Pan calling her name. It _sounded _like him. Why would he care? She didn't know how to think of this, and dropped it as quick as it came.

Although Harriet made a big deal out of the explosions and being caught on fire, she'd kept the fire away from the edge of the clearing where the boys were, and she'd only put fire in rings in the ivy. The real problem was the fire above.

Harriet shrieked as she rolled away from a falling branch. It bounced and flamed before her eyes, embers flickering, red hot.

She hadn't intended to hurt anyone – had only intended to scare. The fire was never actually meant to blow anyone to bits. That was heartless. And she'd have no more company except Tinker Bell on the island – she'd go mad. But if everyone _believed _that they were in danger of being caught on fire – hence the oil – then it would make getting her freedom much, much easier.

Pan kept the oil for fires. Harriet even put a little in their food.

Quickly, adrenaline pounding in her heart, Harriet leopard crawled across her pre-dug path where she'd used the shovel to overturn the ivy, making a safe path for her to follow out of the clearing as smoke caused zero visibility, uncovering Horin, whom she'd switched cloaks with and was the boy she'd knocked out, on her way as a distraction. She was crawling away, but scooched back quickly until she could move Horin to a more strategic location so nothing would fall on him, based on network of trees and their position in the canopy above them. Then she was off like a bullet.

Rushing to her feet once she was out of the clearing, Harriet sprinted fast, wildly patting the end of her cloak when she realized it was on fire and having to stop and use her foot to stomp it out – since her hands were covered in oil. Then she realized this wasn't her cloak, it was Horin's, and it was shorter than hers, and the fire was quickly spreading because she wasn't able to squash it, and then in a mess of cloth, limbs and hair she was out of it and smacking the fabric into the floor – after all, she couldn't leave it here aflame and then leave a trace of where she was going. After the last persistent flames died out, some even re-surging and she had to give the ground a good whack with it, with an extra stomp for good measure, she tied it around her waist underneath her backpack. Starting up again the second she was fire-free, Harriet refocused on her journey, trees blurring past her as she ran. She'd had to use the path at the last minute, realizing that Pan somehow figured out a way to beat her. Harriet had dug the path, just the in case anything had gone bad, in case she needed a quick exit. Events like this were a reward for her cautionary thinking and contingency plans. She hadn't thought things would need to go this way.

Pan had somehow stopped the fire. He hadn't given into her, either, made her a better deal, like she'd thought he would. Guess he wasn't as worried about not having a legacy as she thought. Maybe he was humble or something?

She'd actually _lit _everything on fire. She was 'wow'ed – she really, really, _really _thought that Pan would just cooperate! That he would just come up with another deal! After all, he came up with creative adventures for the 'children' and told them stories around the fire at night. He had an imagination. Where was it now?

She thought over this as she ran – it was no matter.

Once she burst out into the open beach, she was panting, but not out of breath, as she'd hoped when she'd picked the ivy clearing in the first place. There was only one place she could go now that they wouldn't find her – which had been the hardest, truly the most difficult thing about this plan. She thought it was impossible. But Harriet's ears were always open, she could never shut it off. Anything that happened, that she could hear, entered her ears. She couldn't switch off when there was stimuli. And her mind was always thinking. Since day one, she'd processed what was happening around her, formulating, contrasting, testing ideas to prove them fateful or illogical.

It was true what she'd said to Tinker Bell – she had swam to the island. But she'd been on a ship first, the name on the side of the boat imprinted in her brain as she glimpsed it while she dove overboard and fell into the water. She'd swum to safety, to the island, and came across a cove – a safe haven. But she'd inadvertently swam to a dead end spot – she could do nothing there but be marooned and, if the captain of the ship wanted her, he'd be after her, and she'd be a sitting duck. In front of her was the ocean, behind her was the cove, and it walled around her like arms to hold the sand.

So she'd swum away from the concave cliff face, where there'd been a shore with seashells and seaweed and everything, around the major cliff side that cut into the sea, the salt water thrushing against her. If the cliff side hadn't been there, the secluded shore would have been part of the beach. The mermaids came then, and she had to swim quicker than she'd ever swum before in her life to get to land. It had been a short distance, but it felt like an ocean away and the water suddenly wasn't working with her.

The Lost Boys spoke about things on the island – places, names, things she would not normally care about. But they never described a cliff face that concaved to have its own secluded shore.

Of course, the flaw in this was that Pan obviously must know about it. He knew everything, _obviously. _But there had to be some things where even those who knew everything, just missed. It happened to everyone. Even the deity in the clouds, who apparently saw everything and answered all prayers, Harriet thought, there were some things that he just missed. Harriet felt like she was one of those things. But at the same time, Harriet had given up on giving her power to another entity long ago.

But Harriet wouldn't have even begun the execution of this plan if she hadn't thought about how she would finish it – everything had been riding on the final detail, and the final detail she had figured out. She'd poured endlessly, obsessively over it. At dinner, at breakfast, when fishing, when sewing, when cooking. Even in her sleep, the cogs turned. Any time her mind wasn't occupied by a task, her mind was focusing on her escape and her freedom. She'd never been stationary from the moment she'd been taken to Pan's camp and he wanted her to be the 'mother' to the Lost Boys. He thought he'd captured her, tamed her and her spirit. He thought she was submissive and accepted her fate. But that was not the case – clearly. Harriet hated losing her autonomy - and didn't take it lying down.

The cliff face was her only shot. It would at least minimize her enemies – if Pan knew about it, which was likely anyway, at least it'd just be him. The guy who put out a fire by doing nothing. The guy who brought her here. The guy who held back all the things he could potentially do to her.

Harriet heard a yell that sounded like Pan and she was visibly startled in her body language. She whirled around to look at the source of the sound, deep in the forest, far away. Maybe he stepped on one of her spears? She'd had to abandon a few things of hers back there, after all…

Harriet whirled around to spy her destination – good god, which direction was it again? She looked from one side of the shore, to look at the other end, and sighed frustratedly in her breath. Both sides looked about the same! She'd never found it again after she'd left it, because she'd simply never looked for a land marker. She'd just left to try and survive.

Harriet formulated a plan and went towards the side of the island that she knew for certain had a hill – that she'd seen. She could start there. She'd have to avoid Pan along the way.

She looked around quickly again to resume her focus and found what she was looking for far across the beach and darted towards it, running across the shore. When she realized she was slower in the sluggish sand, she jumped into the forest so it would be easier to run.

The beach looked big when she was there on her own. It felt like there was something missing, and it felt like it took as twice as long to get to her destination. Harriet blinked as she ran. After hearing Pan's yell, she was paranoid that he was after her.

She inadvertently looked behind herself as she ran, but there was nothing there. She abruptly tripped and fell with a cry of surprise, but jumped up, fearful of the 'something' coming after her and ran again.

Harriet sprinted up the suddenly steep hill, taking big steps, the incline taking its toll on her breath, before Harriet used little, 'jogging on the spot' steps to slow down on the decline on the other side of the hill, which abruptly turned into a cliff face. Harriet jumped onto her side and let gravity slide her down the short cliff before she fell off.

Her fingers gripped the side of the cliff face, which arched a small, sheltered, secluded part of the shore. Her bag, her cloak dangled in the air as she felt the breeze and she let go - dropped. She cried out when it hurt her legs. She crumpled to the floor on her side, chest heaving, the bag on her bag slumping to the floor, the contents sagging on its side and sinking into the sand, feeling heavier than her own body.

She just lay there, panting like a cheetah in African heat.

As far as she knew, the Lost Boys didn't know about this secluded part of the shore. They'd never spoken about it – but had spoken about other parts of the island. The cliff concaved, its edges softly eroded by the sea shore but standing strong, with sand and shells were present like a shore all on its own inside of it. If the cliff's sides had not been there, it would be a part of the rest of the beach.

Staring sideways blindly at the rock wall that held horizontal layers of grey and white color, Harriet's breath slowly came back to her. Her eyelids dropped for a moment and she relaxed a little – nothing could get here and find her. Something would have to _fly _to get to her. The sea kept out everything on foot.

She rolled onto her back, her back protesting when she'd accidentally rolled onto her bag. It was uncomfortable taking it off, and she weakly managed to push the heavy thing away. Now lying flat on her back, arms out, it was much easier to breathe. She thought about how she wouldn't be able to teach the boys how to read anymore. It was an idea to her, it didn't make her sad. She'd miss having access to doing it, however. She tried to control her breaths and take oxygen in deeply. She put her hand to her forehead, starting to laugh. It came out like a wheeze. She turned onto her side, hands in her face, just laughing, wheezing, whichever would fit the sound better.

The laughing abruptly turned into a gasp of shock when something wet touched her toe. Her foot recoiled and she shot up, her muscles hurting, and she realized the lapping waves of the sea were coming at her. She scrambled up, despite the burning of her body's muscles, her eyes startled in horror and her mouth open as she looked at the advancing giant that bled out to the horizon.

The tide was coming in.

* * *

She was swept up with the tide, unable to stop it, fight it. She tumbled around in the ocean, her bag floating away from her, and all she knew was black.

* * *

Well, a lot happened here. There's a lot going on. Fortuitously, there's more coming. Haha!


	13. S1E12

Thank you for the reviews. Hope you enjoy the chapter :P

* * *

_He was wondering through the forest happily, just going about his day._

_Conk._

_A hiss._

"_Ow," He heard from a female voice. He quickly stood up and tried to help her up, but the girl he bumped into was already rising on her own._

"_I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there-"_

_He stopped when the girl's face moved towards him and he saw the most strikingly beautiful scowl he'd ever seen – he was entranced._

_She barely looked at him, holding her head from pain where they'd connected._

"_You should leave," She said darkly, the way she worded her words was something he couldn't place._

"_What?" He said, trying to understand, still trying to come closer to see if she was okay._

_She shoved him, fingers clutching into his itchy, thick grey cloak and pushing him, and he fell back until she had some distance from him. He shakily regained his footing._

"_Just go. It's not safe here," She insisted, not looking at him, her brow furrowed as she touched her forehead again._

"_I'm really sorry," He apologized, but she cut him off by turning around and stalking back the way she came. He was lost in a daze and didn't see where she disappeared to._

* * *

The water level was rising – she couldn't do anything to stop it.

Her eyes darted to the cliff wall – it was smooth. Escape to freedom too high for her to reach without a foothold. She wouldn't be able to come back that way.

Her mind went to the bird – the big thing she talked about with Tinker Bell. No, it was the shadow. The shadow?

She cupped her hands to her mouth,

"SHADOW!" Her voice boomed out of the concave cliff like a boom, pushing into the night, the sky, the clouds, the stars and the moon looking so far away. If it could fly, it could get her out of here.

She searched the dark skies, jumping back when the water sloshed closer to her. Her legs trembled from weakness. Nothing happened.

She looked around with a ferocious scowl. She _had _to get herself out of here.

As she went to the other side of the cliff to see if there was a foothold, a particularly strong tug backward from the ocean had her calves swept underneath her, slipping in the sand. She fell hard onto her side with an 'aah' from her throat. She got back up as the water sloshed over her body, just managing to keep her face out. She shivered hard at the coldness of the water, rushing over faster.

She looked at the cliff wall that was slowly getting shorter the higher the water level rose. She wasn't going to be able to make it. She wasn't going to get out.

Harriet underestimated how fast the tide came in, for the next moment she was swallowed in a wave. Bubbles gurgled from her mouth before she held what little precious breath was in her lungs. The salt water stung her eyes as she looked wildly about. She swam to the surface, breaking for air just as another wave washed in. Harriet clung to her knees in a ball before the motion stopped, and she quickly swam for the surface again, this time far further away from the edge of the cliff and nearly against the back of the cliff wall.

She took in deep breaths before another wave took her under. The water was so cold… It reached into all the uncomfortable places on her body, down the back of her neck, soaking her legs, getting up right against her skin until there was nothing left to drench.

She rode with the wave, and the next time she resurfaced in the pitch black night she was back against the solidness of the cliff. She threw startled, frightened eyes out to the dark horizon. Now that she was backed up, it was going to be very, very difficult to go against the sea and get out. It was so dark.

No matter what Harriet did, the sea was relentless. It took her under, threw her against the cliff wall, and just when she got a deep breath – and sometimes didn't – it took her under again. It was a vicious process – being tossed around by the sea. Already weak and tired and out of breath from the running from the Lost Boys and Pan, she didn't think she could keep going. She seriously, seriously doubted she could. A few times when she didn't have enough breath, she saw sparks behind her eyelids.

_I can't do this, _She thought to herself, right before her shoulder slammed into the cliff wall. Her pale hand grabbed it as the next wave took her, the water now warmer than the air, scraping her against the rock. Her heart beat so wildly in her chest from fear. Excruciating fear. Not sure if she would survive this or not.

Her life flashed before her eyes, and she wondered how she managed to survive all those ordeals and not this one.

She swallowed water. She broke to the surface to cough but was slammed into the cliff wall like a ragdoll. It was one too many times, and she blacked out, sagging into the sea like a shell, her hair sopping onto the foaming surface, before falling behind her ethereally.

She was swept up with the tide. She tumbled around in the ocean, her bag floating away from her, and all she knew was black – dead to the world and numb to feeling.

* * *

"Harriet. My dear, sweet Harriet."

* * *

Her eyes opened.

* * *

Pan lay on the bed on his side, back to the door. Next to him, on her back, unseen because of his position, lay Harriet. Pan's fingers trailed down the side of her pale face. When she shivered he pulled the blanket over her more and tightened his arm over her waist, keeping her warm. She was freezing. If it hadn't been for her shivers, he would have thought she was dead.

He'd never seen it coming.

He was taking care of her now.

She was his.

His mind drifts back to the display, no, the _performance, _the _stand _against him, as it has been circling around it constantly. Other than the worry and panic he felt that she might be in danger and be taken away from him, with everything it took to get her here, he couldn't get it out of his mind. He couldn't get _her _out of his mind – not ever. He could still picture her - so adamant, so strong, so willful, so carefree and powerful – putting on a powerful display _in front of him._

He had to immediately change his tactics concerning Harriet.

He'd never seen such calm defiance. Sure, his Lost Boys wanted to go home when they arrived – they missed their parents, they were homesick, and some got angry and tried to fight him. Harriet was fighting for another reason, but she was calm, and her fight was more well-thought out. She'd nearly successfully taken herself away – even if it was inadvertently, the second time. Where boys would hit, she would find a way to come at him in the most surprising way.

Pan tilted his head. He still couldn't figure out if she had intended that level of surprise in him, or if she was just oblivious to it. She seemed oblivious to most things he sent her way – touches, looks, compliments, even. He'd tried to tease her to get her to come out of her shell, but she remained unaffected.

He hadn't intended for any of this to happen – not her suffering, not her near-drowning. Not her unhappiness. Not her pain. He'd nearly lost her twice in one night.

His palm engulfed her cheek. She nearly managed to take herself away from him. No one was meant to do that – with all the trouble it took to get her here, he wasn't going to let her go. However…

Pan wanted to work _with _Harriet, not _against _her. And when she stood so powerfully and took her rights, asserted herself, challenged him and the way he ruled things, why, the beast inside just crooned happily. Fire. He liked fire.

Yet, Pan had worried when he saw how clever his little Harriet was – the danger that he could very well lose her if he didn't do something fast. He'd sent out his magic to destroy the flames, but in the fray she'd left a decoy body to distract him from finding her. His yell of aggravation and disappointment that it hadn't been her, anger over losing her, desperation over her safety, had been so loud it boomed through the forest. Nothing had ever made Pan that angry before.

When she woke up, he'd put his new plan into motion. Yes. One that would dazzle her so much it would sweep her off her feet and she wouldn't be able to say no.

Hopefully it would appease her.

Now that he knew she was capable of acting on her own – with her own mind; unpredictably, ferociously, calmly, calculatingly – not bending to him _whatsoever_ (when he thought she _had) _- he would not hesitate to respect her and respond to her wishes. Give her what she wanted – which, in this case, was freedom and autonomy. He could give her that. He liked the idea of having a powerful female by his side – one that challenged him. Oh how he loved the fire in her eyes and voice when she'd demanded things out of him. It made his desire rise to the surface – which he didn't need. It was easier to control, before this all happened. Before she challenged him to step up to the plate. Now it was cemented. He could not let her go.

Harriet shivered, and Pan pulled up the blankets around her and tightened his hold on her shoulders, throwing an arm around her waist to clench her to him.

* * *

Okay - all done for Chapter 13!


	14. S1E13

Working several chapters ahead. Can't wait to keep updating every night. It's so much fun.

* * *

Harriet's eyes opened. Blinked at the light.

Eyes rolled in their sockets to survey the dim room, looking at all the unnamable objects without self-awareness.

There were pale, rectangular shapes below her vision, on top of something dark and a large rectangle. The large rectangle bent in a long shape away from her eyes. It took Harriet a few minutes to realize that was her body underneath a blanket, and those were her hands on top.

Harriet tried to move her hands, and she realized how dry her skin felt. She could see her arms were bare, and she vaguely –_somewhere – _in her mind realized this was not what she usually wore. She remembered something long and dark covering her arms. Her skin felt so dry.

_Salt water._

Harriet blinked, and her brow furrowed in confusion. One minute she was in the water, then things go black and dark...

And then she's here - not dead.

_How_?

Her head ached, so did her airways – her nose, throat, and lungs. Her muscles felt like jelly, she felt like she couldn't move. She managed to move her arms – so heavy – just a little. It felt like her bones were lead. It was all so uncomfortable and painful.

She closed her eyes, furrowing her brow and trying to calm her emotions, when the door opened into the dim, candle lit room.

"Harriet," He said gladly. Her eyes snapped open upon hearing Pan. He rushed over with some water, but only after he closed the door. "Water," He said, suddenly unreadable as he scanned her.

She took it from him, never removing her eyes from his face, and sipped from the bowl. Her mind was completely blank – and she was trying to get it to work. She realized this was her chance to speak, but her brain wouldn't work and she couldn't formulate a sentence.

She was half way through the bowl before she remembered just _how _she got into that situation in the first place and her hands were not fast enough to throw the bowl and the water into his face, albeit clumsily and a bit fumbling, but she hit her mark. Scowling at him the whole time.

The bowl hit his head and _clunked _off his head, hitting the floor, making a ringing sound as it twirled over and over before finally sitting.

"This is _all _your fault," She said, her anger a tidal force, then sighed, stopped herself, looking away. She said quieter. "If you had just _co-" _She suddenly coughed, her throat dry. "Cooperated," She forced through her throat hoarsely, her voice suddenly going and all she could do was cough, the cough sounding like she was sick, the sound alone loud in the room and in her ears. She ignored when a hand tried to take her hand away from her throat and hold it. "I wouldn't have had to take that route…" She ended finally. Then she wouldn't have made that mistake. In her head, she knew it was her choice to go down there. She had completely forgotten about the tide – had not taken it into account at all. She forgot the sea could affect her.

But if she had swum immediately the second she'd arrived, Harriet reflected as she sat back, the hand helping, she'd have gotten out. But then, if she had gotten out, what was the point of going there in the first place? The point was to hide, not to immediately leave and then get caught again. It was a loop - one she saw no point in beating herself up about because there was no point.

Now she was back here. One may think that it had been all for naught. Not Harriet.

A hand pushed her hair back at her hairline and she tiredly looked to Peter. What was he doing?

"You need to rest." He said, like he hadn't heard her. He picked up the bowl, and with one hand he swiped the air slowly over the bowl and to Harriet's newly narrowed eyes more water appeared.

She took it from him quietly, drinking from the bowl thirstily, not minding her messiness when some water dribbled from both sides of the bowl down the sides of her chin and dripped onto her shirt.

The placed the bowl in her lap, arms feeling weak and shaky. She licked her lips, looking about the room. Still, the objects in there she couldn't name or recognize the shapes of. She knew intuitively that she needed food and water before that happened. She didn't notice Pan staring at her, until she looked at him from the corner of her eye. The stare felt heavy. She blinked.

It was so unlike her to blame someone. It was so unlike her to react in her anger. She wished she had handled that better - more calmly, more rationally. Chosen her words more carefully.

"How many times have I woken up?" She asked. It had felt like she slept deeply – but she couldn't be sure.

"This is the first." Pan said. She didn't feel anything at the news, blinking, her mind focused on the painful areas of her body and trying to figure out ways to erase the pain. She swallowed painfully, mind blank and not working.

"I didn't bring you here to suffer." Pan said, and that surprised her. Harriet listened with a small amount of surprise that he was still there. She was used to him appearing and disappearing. She couldn't see him, but when she moved her eye over she could just make him out. But it made her eyes sting and she closed them, drawing in a hiss of pain.

"I'm sorry." He said. She couldn't tell if he meant it was for sitting outside her line of vision or if it was for keeping her prisoner. She couldn't answer him right now because she felt too nauseous and weak.

"Food," She said hoarsely, slowly turning her head on the pillow to look at Pan. It was all she could say at once, now that she had used up her words.

* * *

It had been three days that Harriet had been kept in the room. She had mostly been sleeping, but when she was awake Pan was there sometimes and other times he was not. Whenever she slept she felt warm.

Whenever Pan came, he'd talk to her. Just talk. Or other times, he'd sit. He'd bring things with him sometimes. He'd left her a comb where on the handle where her fingertips went were seashells and bits and pieces that obviously came from the sea. It looked like it was befit mermaid hair.

She didn't know what to do with it.

Did she comb her hair with it? _Do _you comb your hair with another person's comb, where _their _hair has been? Or was it for her to admire, for decoration? She couldn't tell, so she held it in her left hand on top of the blankets because she couldn't move much. She hoped she didn't roll over and crush it.

What about that poor mermaid out there, left without a comb?

Harriet had been angry with Pan, but she got over it. She knew she would, because things like this had happened several times before – she had been angry, _very _angry, for about a week, and then the anger subsided and she just forgot about it. She knew how she worked. And with Pan, it wasn't any different. He was her Pots and Pans, but that didn't matter in the time it took for her anger to work through her.

Yes, everything may look like it had absolutely no results, but Harriet didn't think so.

When Pan came, he'd sit next to her on a chair. He'd just be doing something, like making an arrow head, as he had been doing the last few days, and they'd just sit in silence. The silence meant more to her than all the words in the world. She appreciated Pan.

Harriet woke up in the middle of the night to the cries and sobs of someone – people, as she had every night she had been at Neverland, except the first two days after nearly drowning because she had slept so deeply. The return to routine was a nice pleasure.

When she woke up she obviously startled Pan almost as much as she was startled by him.

"I- what? What are you doing here?" She asked him, squinting in the dark to try and see him behind her. His arm was over her, and overall it was just very odd.

"To keep you warm." He said. "During the day and at night the candles are on, but when you sleep, you just have the blankets." He didn't mention that touching her, being close, proved that she was real, still alive, still here. That she wasn't dead, wasn't gone.

Harriet wanted to say just leave the candles on, but she was too tired from sleep and still recuperating to have the energy to push it. She settled down and curled her arms close to her chest, forgetting the death grip she had on the bone white comb because it had been in her hand for days. It came into Pan's vision, and he saw it through a ray of light that came through a high up window. He took it slowly from her hands, and that's when she remembered its presence, and he began to comb her hair with it.

He ran it over and over again down the long strands of her hair, his eyes on her, then following the comb. She just lay quiet and still.

When he was done, he lay the comb on a white bedside table on her side, leaning over her. She watched where he put it, and she stared at it for a while before she closed her eyes. He fought the urge to kiss her temple as he settled behind her again.

"Who are they?" She asked. "Those people I hear crying?"

His chin was on her shoulder, and her eyes went to him, unsure about that.

"They're the Lost Ones. They come here in their dreams… Only those who are also lost can hear them."

Harriet must have come here, once upon a time, she thought.

Harriet pretended she was asleep, but didn't have to pretend long before she was pulled into deep, regenerative slumber.

* * *

"They miss you."

Harriet's head rolled to look at Pan. She can move her head now without feeling like her brains were scrambling around inside.

"The Lost Boys? Hm." She said, evaluating her emotions to see if she also missed them, rolling her head away to look around the room. She can name the objects now. It looked eclectic – a candle, a feather, a vase, a book, a doilie, needle and thread, a big square box, a lamp.

Pan smirked with a light laugh, looking back to what he was doing. Harriet liked to see him like that – childish, carefree.

"You can go out soon, as soon as you're better," Pan said, carving something out of wood.

"Mm," She agreed, looking up at the light that came in from the high up window. He saw her do it. Yes, she had worried about the Lost Boys – she had been concerned. But at the same time, she had faith in their resilience.

"It should be soon," He said, voice starting to deepen as he started thinking. "As soon as you can walk, you can go."

She rolled her head to him.

"Am I going to be your prisoner still? I haven't given up..." The unsaid threat lingered in the air.

He slowly raised his eyes to her.

He returned to his carving.

She stared at him, unreadable.

* * *

Harriet was sitting up on the edge of the bed, trying to stand. Pan came over, and it was like seeing her struggle made him realize what she'd been through.

"I never intended this to happen," He said. She looked up at him, because he was distracting her from trying to hold herself together and stand, and she wanted to listen to what he had to say. "I never meant to hurt you."

"I hurt myself," She said, looking back at her feet, trying to feel if they were ready. "It's fine." Forgotten, even. She forgot about it until he mentioned it. All she saw was her recovering. No, she hadn't lost. Nothing about her current location suggested that she'd lost. She'd been saved from drowning - it didn't mean that any of this was over.

She finally managed to stand, quite pleased with her ability to do that. It felt so good to be standing after lying for so long. She grinned happily at Pan, but he looked back at her soberly.

He walked over and she tested out her feet. Hehe! It was working!

She stepped on something sharp and she 'ow'ed, picking her foot up, dusting off her foot. She felt woozy then at the physical excursion, which she hadn't had in a few days, and swayed a little. She felt hands on her waist, fingers curling around the back of it, righting her. She saw Pan come to stand close. She looked up at him. He did not move.

She stood still. So did he.

What was this, Harriet thought. Was this what they call a 'hug'? Or was he being a board for her to lean on?

Experimentally, Harriet stepped forward and lent on him, curling her arms in to garner warmth between their bodies. She fit under his chin, on his chest. Pan stayed quiet, and still, when her hips moved forward his hands stayed on her body until she met him. Harriet was just slowly observing the feels she had, feeling breath on the top of her hair. Pan carefully wrapped his arms around her waist, trying not to scare her, touching her back.

Okay, she was done. She straightened up like a board and went to lay down.

* * *

Chapter 13. Hope you guys liked it. Harriet was not her usual self in the beginning because she was recuperating - but there was more of her usual self at the end. She reacted out of anger because it was a unique situation - she had just nearly drowned - you don't just behave normally afterwards! But it also had a secondary function - anyone see any similarities in that scene to a flashback in the last chapter?

Things may get confusing from here on out for a few chapters :P


	15. S1E14

Okay, like I said, things may get a bit confusing but they'll solve themselves. Stick with it for two chapters.

* * *

She was so stricken by the experience, stricken in her _bones _– the water had done something to her. In its tossing and shaking her about, like clothes against a washer board, and then swallowed up whole, she felt changed, somehow. Somehow not quite the same.

Harriet was crouching at the shore, her hands on her knees, looking at the timid waves that dared lap smally, apologetically, towards her feet. She analyzed this as she stared at the soothing water.

She was testing how afraid she was of the sea. She looked up and out into the ocean. So far, she felt nothing. She stood up, knees cracking, and stretched her arms up. She was glad that she wasn't afraid of the water – she loved the water so, so much. Being afraid of it wouldn't help much, and it would take away her love for the sea. It looked like that didn't happen.

Harriet walked down the shoreline, just watching the sand and the sea move in, and out. She didn't know how long she walked when she looked up and saw Pan there – standing in the shadows dramatically.

He asked as he walked out, swinging his arms casually. "Thought you'd take a stroll across the beach?"

She didn't answer, thinking the question self-evident. She blinked at him.

He grinned.

"Mute today, are we?"

She thought about how cute he was as the light fell across his face. He had a nice grin. Harriet thought about it categorically, like it was a fact, over whether or not her emotions were tied to it, like saying that dark curtains really added to a light room.

She turned around and walked back on her path. He followed.

"I'm surprised to see you so close to the water so soon," He began.

"Not afraid," She informed him. "No fear." It was an accurate statement of her emotions and current psychology, but he took it like she was bragging or being cocky.

She suddenly stopped and turned to him.

She threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around him tightly, hoping she was doing this right. He slowly reached to touch her back – and she swiftly found out, from the hugging, that she didn't like being touched on her back. No – she _did, _it just felt like the touch on her back seeped through her clothes to her skin and tingled all the way to her bones, in a really nice way. Didn't he know what kind of potential that had? That could switch her off – her eternally open ears and senses. It could switch her off for five minutes. Best be careful during hugging.

She bounced away from him and walked on like nothing had happened, looking out to the sea.

Pan joined her, a bounce in his step.

"That was a thanks for saving me, by the way. I hope I did it right," She looked at him for no reason.

He smirked with one side of his mouth.

"Oh Harriet, there's no wrong way to hug,"

No wrong way?

"Just thought I'd make sure."

So it _was _a hug! Ha! She finally guessed something right! She felt a smile come to her lips and she looked away from him to the sea to see the horizon.

"Heh," He said. "Well, I hope you're ready for tonight,"

She looked over at him.

They stopped in his next sentence, first him then her.

"Tonight? At the bonfire? Come on, Harriet, don't tell me you haven't been listening."

She hadn't.

"I wasn't. Haven't been."

"Tonight's the big reveal," He said dramatically, walking in front of her, ahead of her, looking ahead. "Tonight's the night we decide what we're going to do with you!" He turned around, grinning, arms out open. He said in a way that was light, mocking.

Harriet's heart stopped thundering and her breath relaxed. She had been a little worried there.

"Oh..."

She started walking, trudging across the sand. She didn't like how it was more work than walking on a regular path. She walked right past Pan. He turned after her.

"What? No words? No reaction?"

"No." She said quietly without looking back at him. Walking on, holding her cloak. "Feeling sad. Something you can't control, help with. Go away."

* * *

Harriet hadn't been listening the entire night. It was so difficult to. She tried, but people's lips were just moving and she could hear their words, but she couldn't remember anything. The bon fire had started and was in full swing. Peter drew up the suspense of the night and now it was coming to a crescendo – not that she noticed much difference in the movements and shapes of the shapes called people.

"I've decided –" He said dramatically, the fire from the bonfire casting multiple shadows on the backdrop of the forest, each one flickering while his arms were raised. The only thing that drew Harriet's attention was the light on his face, so similar to the night she met him, when she was captured. She tried, but it didn't make her feel better. She felt hollow. "Neverland is yours. You're free."

"You can do what you want."

All she heard was 'you're free'.

'You're free'.

'You're free'.

You're free…

You're free…

And Harriet was out of the campfire like a bullet – she was running, gasping, out of breath, her legs pumping to get her away faster, anything to run from her fears, from her past. Once she was far, far away, Harriet let out a cry of anguish, her hands tugging into her hair, falling onto her knees and crying one long scream to get it out – get it _all _out, get _anything _out. Get out her sorrows and her anger and her fear and get out all the trauma and the **pain **she's had – _unresolved pain – _pain she hasn't dealt with – get it out! Go away! She didn't want it anymore!

The water did something to her. It smashed her defenses, that kept this out.

She'd felt upset since she'd woken up – but she hadn't realized. She'd been numb. Now, it was a crescendo.

She was being swallowed.

No.

Harriet was gone.

* * *

Harriet came back to the clearing, her eyes clearing.

Pan dropped his hands.

"Did you hear what I said?"

She said nothing. Inside, she was saying a million things, but not really saying anything.

He seemed to not know what to do for a moment, how to assess her, before he appeared in front of her and dropped down into a crouch, right in front of her face. She didn't even look away when her vision was full of face.

"Why, boys, mother is in shock!" He said to them with a grin and they laughed nervously back. He took her chin in his hand.

"Harriet," He said, patting her cheek. "Harriet."

* * *

Harriet wasn't her name.

Her eyes turned to his – green, hazel, whatever the word was, she didn't care right now, they were beautiful – and she stood up, turning mutely to the hideaway hut and shut herself away.

Pan stood up from his crouch. He didn't know what to make of her reaction, and stood for a bit. Finally, he turned to the boys, raising his voice.

"Time for music, boys!"


	16. S1E15

Okay, so here in the beginning, she's dreaming. This chapter will be confusing, but if you read it word for word and stick with it, it makes sense, I've noticed. Thank you to all my reviewers, alerters and favoriters! :) I love how you love my story so much you're sticking with it! Me too!

There's a lot in this chapter, to fully take it in one may have to read it more than once or twice. If you want to soak in it and reach the full depth of this chapter, you have to go over it again and again.

* * *

She was floating in the sea, after she'd been swallowed.

Who _was _she?

Why was she here?

Why had she suffered what she'd suffered?

Why did it follow her, after all these years –

Why didn't it leave her alone?

Why?

Why?

Why?

So young, she remembered herself. So much taken, left before anyone could be there for her. So much cemented so young. One of her earliest memories - traveling, walking realms, seeing times and places. Free.

She did not remember her parents. But she remembered her nana, the cottage that smelled of gingerbread, the first ray of hope she'd had in her young life.

The cottage gone. The smell was gone. She remembered being alone again.

She travelled again, but it was not the same anymore. She stopped, settled in one place. A village. She couldn't do much unless she could read. She stayed. 'Enchanted Forest'.

Bullies, teasing. They did not like her – she was different. Harriet did not know – it only became apparent once she began to read, began to learn. Her desire for knowledge was insatiable – but even without that, she stuck out amongst the country children.

Different.

Never meeting a kindred soul - someone like her.

Alone.

That night she was chased into the lands of a Lord. Petrified of being found. Wishing she could be taken away. Wishing things were easier - in any way at all.

Older, now. Went to a world of ordinary things. No magic – called itself, 'Earth'. Learnt, read, expanded. Hard in the beginning.

But difficulty was all she could remember - as part and parcel of life as breathing. Survivor. She made a life – a temporary life. A life she'd never become attached to.

But even in her dreams, Harriet would not go back to her earliest memories, and would not go into her core self.

* * *

She awoke in a sweat. The room was dim. She sat up, peeling off her cloak that she'd fallen asleep in. Her muscles clenched and unclenched horribly.

"You've been dreaming," Pan said, stepping out from the shadows. She felt naked all of a sudden, and clutched her cloak to her front. His eyes were sober. He walked closer, her breath came out quickly, and she leaned away.

He pulled back the covers and got in beside her. She rotated and slammed onto her side in the bed, her back to him. She knew what he was going to do, and when he held her she quickly said,

"Don't touch my back."

She panted in the silent room. More surely now, Pan's arm wound around her form.

"I'm sick." She said, eyelids closed, damp face pressing into the pillow. "Sick in the soul. I have to leave."

He slowly nodded against her hair.

* * *

She didn't leave, in the end.

She was sick.

Confined to the bed.

Condemned to nightmares. She would wake, delirious, not knowing where she was, and upon seeing Pan she saw visions of him long gone. She'd eat, maybe, sleep, definitely, and she drank water like a fish.

"I don't know who I am," She sobbed, the figure by her bed watching her.

"I'm breaking."

"I'm not the same anymore."

* * *

_Around a glowing campfire, drunken laughter sounded from a gang of men. They were middle aged, dressed in rags and gulping from bottles like fish._

_Tossed between them was a woman. The men cat called and wolf whistled at her, rowdy laughter filling the forest._

_Off to the side of the camp sat a girl, untouched. Chains led from her wrists to a tree._

_They wouldn't touch her – waiting until she was older, more like her mother._

_She was cold; did not look, did not flinch, as they tossed her mother around._

* * *

The sickness was deep – violent.

In her dreams, she was building an empire. She was starting all over – building a new world on Neverland.

In this Neverland, she had to start over again. Start as her real self.

She worked all day to build her new home, her new territory – to clear the way for who she was. She had tools, and she worked hard, endlessly, only to sleep the night away in the blink of an eye. She'd wake up and eat and drink, then she'd go back. And she'd wake up in this Neverland and do it all over again.

Through the sweat and toil, the building of her new home, her new life, her new _soul, _Harriet wondered what was wrong with the way things were? She was fine! The old ways worked, they were swell and dandy, nothing ever went wrong! Why not go back there! It was hard to remember why she'd changed.

Then her memories came – and the turmoil and anguish came back, and she was reminded, she could _never _go back to her old ways. She could _never _be the same – not after her near drowning. Not after… all those things she hadn't dealt with, that she could no longer hide from - where the sea had smashed her so many times it was impossible to _not _have herself changed, her defenses that kept out her past gone; broken. She felt everything now in a tidal wave of emotion. And it was uncomfortable. The pain, the anger, the deep, deep sorrow… She couldn't get rid of it. It was always there – always a discomfort, like a disconnected shoulder she could never fix or like the weight of the world was on her shoulders but hadn't crushed her yet – where there would be relief. She was in limbo – suffering, between two worlds, had not moved from one to the other yet. Trying, trying to get out, like a reptile out of a shell.

She was burning inside from the alchemy of her hell. She was burning down. From the inside. And it was torture.

She could only wait to rise from the ashes.

She thought that she'd moved on, that she'd dealt with the past – that she'd fixed it. The bad memories gone away…

But all she'd done is displace – she'd left her first home, which had never been her home, and moved on forever since then - into a new house, a new home of thought, but every time something touched her deepest, oldest roots, which was hard to do, she ran from it. Because she told herself she'd closed that chapter because she told herself, she'd dealt with that. But she hadn't. She'd just been in deep, deep denial. For a long time.

Harriet couldn't admit to who she was.

But Harriet knew, she had to face herself.

* * *

_Around a glowing campfire, drunken laughter sounded from a gang of men. They were middle aged, dirty, dressed in rags and gulping from bottles like fish._

_Tossed between them was a woman. The men cat called and wolf whistled at her, rowdy laughter filling the forest._

_Off to the side of the camp sat a girl, untouched. Chains led from her wrists to a tree._

_They wouldn't touch her – waiting until she was older, more like her mother._

_She was cold; did not look, did not flinch, as they tossed her mother around._

For the first time in visiting that memory since she'd buried it, Harriet heard her mother's cries and the men's laughter in her ears.

She felt horror; trapped. It was like she was there again, living it again. No.

A broken hearted little girl, with nothing and no one and nowhere to go.

No!

Harriet woke up and threw up.

* * *

"I'm not yours…" She said aloud in her sleep one night, talking back to that voice. Her head rolled to the side. "Never…"

* * *

A hand dabbed a cool cloth to her warm forehead.

Harriet frowned, and her eyes opened.

They stared clearly at the ceiling.

* * *

He hadn't thought it would come to this. That this would happen.

When she'd woken up – she'd been fine, it seemed. But she had been different. A small change, but significant, one _he _could see.

Then, she was gone – he had to watch her night after night visit the torments of her dreams, and he hated himself for it. For not finding her in time.

He'd gotten such little time with her - before things went wrong, things went _bad_.

The nightmares weren't clearing – the madness wasn't gone from her eyes. When she looked at him, she looked right through him – like he wasn't there. He wondered, in his mind, what could cause someone to such depths of sickness that they lose all touch with reality.

* * *

Harriet was shaking in bed.

Nothing had touched her roots like this before - like being tossed around by the sea had. Nothing had ever broken her down so deeply so effectively, so quickly. She thought she'd been fine when she woke up - but it was like she had a chest cold, something niggling in the back of her mind, but nothing big enough to wave any red flags.

Now, she was shattering. It was true now. She was being broken down into her base elements, and thrown into the fire. She didn't think her body could handle this. It felt so _awful _on _every _level of her being. It was a tidal force – a destroyer. There was nothing left to torch. It was all up in flames.

* * *

She was in the sea, and she was being swallowed. She surrendered to her emotions. There was nothing left to do now - but surrender. Accept.

* * *

The girl went still.

Pan practically leapt onto the bed to check her pulse. It was steady, but quiet.

* * *

The fever subsided. She stopped sweating. She woke up once, drank gallons of water, and went back to sleep. He was terrified she would never wake.

She slept for three days, with Pan worrying and pacing by her side, wondering if she were ever going to get up, ever going to wake up.

And finally, her eyes opened after her second intense experience in her short time at Neverland – her eyes clearer than before.

* * *

Take this chapter with a pinch of salt, because there's more information before you decide on what you think of Harriet and various other things. Things are still confusing, I know, but some things are explained here. There's still more to come - a lot more.

In this chapter, she sounded mad, but she was going through a lot, in her own way and process. She was working through some difficult things in a short amount of time, very intensely. If you stuck with it and read it word for word then things would make sense, I noticed.

A lot was in this chapter, so I understand if you're confused, dazed, or don't know what's happening. It's more on an instinctual/intuitive level, this chapter. If you read it once or twice like recommended, then it would make more molded sense.


	17. S1E16

So basically, things will still be confusing for the next three chapters at least. But it's okay, it'll be explained as things go along.

Basically, keep an open mind with each chapter. Things won't make total sense in each one, but it'll be explained in the next one, or later. Harriet and Pan will look like they're doing things they just said they would not do, or contradicting themselves, etc, in some moments, but it will be explained.

* * *

_He watched her pale form, sweating out the demons, as tortured as the writhing girl before him._

* * *

"_You're my Harriet," dripped a female voice in her ear. Harriet's eyelids moved with recognition of the voice. "Nothing can take you away from me."_

* * *

"_I'm not yours…" She said aloud, her head rolling aside. "Never..."_

* * *

"_Harriet…"_

* * *

It was like déjà vu.

Harriet woke up, in the same room as before. She wondered if she had been dreaming the whole thing up, the sickness, the nightmares, the dreams, or if it had really happened. It was like a time warp – so much had happened and yet, it seemed like the world around her hadn't really changed.

It felt like eternity between the time she had woken up after she nearly drowned in the sea, and then woken up now after her sickness. Pan told her it had only been two weeks.

* * *

When she woke up, Harriet sat up. She pulled off the covers and touched her feet to the floor. She thought absentmindedly about how the same she felt and yet felt so alien to herself. Everything was the same and yet it was different.

Pan rushed to her and wrapped her in a hug, to which Harriet wondered why. She was clearly trying to get up, and he was impeding her process.

She stood with him hanging onto her, very, very tight she suddenly realized, her arms bending a little from it.

Pan 'ha'ed next to her ear, which irritated her because of how loud it was in her ear chamber, and he pulled away, looking her over.

"You're fine!"

"Yes." She said calmly, irritated. He was touching her so much after she just woke up. At this rate she would vomit. And she would purposely vomit on him since it was his fault.

"I thought you were never going to wake up!" He worriedly looked at her and all over her. There was a desperateness in him, a vulnerability.

Harriet put a finger into the collar of her cloak and pulled. She felt so dirty.

"Of course, when you go to sleep you wake up. It's the process." She replied.

God, that sounded so much like her.

Pan laughed disbelievingly, before pulling her into a hug again.

"I'm filthy. Go away." He pulled back, looking her over.

"Oh, that's right, you haven't changed in a long time. I was so worried!"

But Harriet had already withdrawn into herself, beginning her mental processes of plans to build her routine and what step she would make next.

"Go away. Do not make me repeat myself." She was on her back about how she'd already repeated herself, but wiped her hand over her face and pushed the inner critic away.

* * *

Harriet sat in bed, naked, her clothes on the floor. Pan walked through the door by chance, hearing the water running and thinking she was in the bath, and walked in on seeing her sitting under the covers, completely wrapped up, facing the wall to the side. He could see a sliver of her naked back.

"Oh – " He stuttered, a hand coming up to shield his vision. He stepped back. "I'm sorry, I'll give you a bit of privacy. I thought you were in the bathroom already,"

Her head turned to him, her eyes shining like a hawks, but wide like a child's.

"Do." She said, her voice normally monotone, serious, and deep. It took him a moment to realize what she meant then he turned around and quickly left, trying to get out his mind the image of her naked skin.

* * *

Harriet sat in the bath, staring at the wall. The water covered her up to her arms. She stayed still for a long time, looking at the nondescript wall.

When she looked in the mirror before she got dressed, she didn't recognize herself.

* * *

Harriet finally rose to the surface – and appeared at camp after changing. The Lost Boys were moving around doing things when they noticed her.

At first, Harriet and the Lost Boys just looked at one another, and Harriet worried. What if they were really hurt by what she did? How long had she been gone? It felt like she'd spent eternity sleeping. Not sure what to say, Harriet blinked owlishly.

"Harriet!" The smallest boy broke away from the line and ran over. Harriet was suddenly aware of how Pan was hovering just behind her shoulder, just outside her vision. She didn't have a moment to think about it as Timmy threw his arms around her, shoving his face into her stomach. Pan must be waiting in line to be hugged by Timmy, she thought. But it was her turn, it seemed, no matter how disgusting it was. After a few moments of thought, Harriet thought to check his face to see what kind of hug this was. She bent a little to look over and see what his face was like. Timmy was smiling. Was that bad?

She slowly patted his head, just in case.

"I'm so glad you're back, mother!" said the little boy.

"Thanks." She said, semi-awkwardly, hand on the back of his head and the other on his shoulder, because that is what she had seen mothers do in her travels – they're meant to touch their children when they hug them. She wished he'd get his hand off her back – touching was uncomfortable. He had five fingers on each hand and her mind could count them as they dug into her. She had to repress a shudder of disgust.

"We thought you'd got hurt!"

"I did."

"He means at the fire," said one of the Boys.

Harriet answered slowly, retreating to that time frame in her mind and pulling back the information. She stroked Timmy's head. "No, I staged the fire so that if I _had to _use the oil, I wouldn't get hurt, and neither would you. Any of you. No one was meant to get hurt."

Felix raised his chin from where he was, and Harriet noticed because his head was out of line with everybody else's. Why would he do that? To be the odd duck? Attention-seeker.

"_Mother," _said Pan, stepping in and announcing his entrance. "technically _isn't _your mother anymore, she's free now. Unless – she _still _wants to be Mother." He looked to her in mock thought. "Do you, Harriet?"

She looked over them without taking them in.

"I don't want to be any of your mothers anymore. I don't have children. You've all got mothers and fathers."

"Then she isn't your Mother," said Pan, waving Timmy away but he stuck on. The Lost Boys turned and began moving about the camp again, and Harriet relaxed more after not being under scrutiny anymore.

Timmy bounced away energetically.

Thank God, she thought absentmindedly.

"We've missed you! Would you like some food?" He said, anyway.

She looked at the tub of gruel in front of the fire, and then at all of their longing, unwashed faces. Longing for her to make something, probably. Or dance. But she would only be doing one of those tonight.

She sighed.

"Have I taught you all nothing?" She said rhetorically, then turned to go to the bushes to go find some berries. Seriously, how did they survive before her? She nearly took a third step when she felt that hand on her waist again. Her eyes widened at the alien hand. Oh my god, where did it come from?! was her thought.

"I think Harriet just needs to eat tonight. She can cook another night," said Pan's smooth voice. She calmed down when she realized the hand belonged to him and she looked up at him just to make sure his voice hadn't travelled and it was someone else touching her. "You'll always be Mother to them, even if you're not really their mother,"

For some reason, Pan physically guided her to a log that he chose and sat down. But Harriet liked another log better and went to go sit down on it. It had Felix on one end of it, but she wasn't focused on who it was. She liked the fact that if she sat there, there would be a lot of empty space between the two people. She liked the shape of it, and was possessive over it.

The Lost Boys watched another look enter Pan's face. When Harriet felt she was being stared at, she looked up. She blinked, and waved at Pan. She waved at him happily. Then he looked at Felix for some reason and then back to her. She grinned, knowing from experience that her 'happy' waving to his behavior wouldn't be well received, but the reaction to it always made her laugh. He got up and left, the fire lighting his skin and clothes. Harriet laughed breathfully at the action and the contortion of his face, which meant nothing to her of his emotions, it was just a funny look in combination with the light of the fire on his skin. She kept laughing breathfully to herself, drawing her spoon upon the floor of her bowl, truly amused inside.

* * *

The Lost Boys didn't seem mad about what happened - in fact they loved it – it was something fun, to them.

"How did you get all the stuff?"

"Tinker Bell collects things." She said quietly, unsure of where the conversation was going and how they were reacting.

They laughed about it and teased her about it for a while, but then suddenly everyone turned quiet. Maybe it was a special occasion, she thought. The quiet was nice as they ate, for once. But it didn't last long.

"We wanted to come visit you," said one of them. Harriet looked up – she hadn't even thought of that. "But…" He suddenly seemed to look like he'd said too much. The other boys started shooting him looks. "We couldn't…" He finished awkwardly.

"Kay…" She accepted.

She played the conversation over and over in her head, because it contained two 'co's that made a nice 'kuh' sound, one after the other. The 'kuh' sound was like the pivot point of the rest of the words, and it was nice to toy and play with in her head repeatedly as she scooped her spoon in circles around her bowl over and over.

But she didn't know why someone would say a statement, and then not get to the point and tell her the reason they couldn't come to see her.

Harriet toyed with the idea of letting it drop, like most people can, and not thinking about it again, but it would haunt her if she didn't close the conversation. Like the reason for Pan's leaving. That was haunting her because she couldn't understand his reasons or motives. Did he suddenly come to an understanding of something and had to leave?

"Why?" She asked.

Someone kicked the boy who spoke and he went, "ow!"

"Pan wouldn't let us." Felix said, taking dominant control over the boys, who wouldn't speak up.

"_Pan _wouldn't let you?" She said in ultimate surprise, looking down at her food. She didn't know the combination could exist – the situation, of Pan forbidding people to come see her, who was in bed, recovering from near-drowning, and more. Weird combination of events. "I didn't expect that could happen," She admitted.

"He _forbade _us." Felix said, eyes catching every one of the boys'. He was sitting on another log now, away from Harriet, not that she noticed it was because of her exchange with Pan. "And if he finds out you're telling on him, he'll be real mad."

Harriet didn't care. She really, very much didn't. What Pan did or didn't do didn't matter to her. She didn't think to share her opinion with the Boys because she didn't think they would care about her opinion – she didn't care about it herself. It didn't matter.

The boys were rowdy, and if there had been any rowdiness while she was recovering she'd just explode with anger.

Harriet just ate her food, unaware of the awkward silence around her – mind pondering a million different things.

"There's something different about you," said one of the boys. "You're… different."

"Ha." Different. Different was the word she'd heard her whole life. Different. "Ha."

* * *

_Harriet walked into the woods after Pan kissed her neck, mind racing. There was a part of her that only came out when she felt suffocated – it was the earliest side of herself she consciously remembered knowing._

_And Harriet. Felt. Suffocated._

* * *

Pan came back to camp and looked for Harriet. She was crouching in front of Horin, the boy she'd used as a decoy, checking in with him, it seemed. He watched her rub a hand over his face caringly like a mother would. He turned away.

* * *

"Ha." Different. Different was the word she'd heard her whole life. Different. "Ha."

Harriet suddenly exclaimed,

"Am I missing something?!" She looked around at everyone. "I _just _realized things were awkward. It's very difficult, you know, to detect, but I finally realized that this fits my internalized images. What's up?" She asked concernedly to everyone.

When already a teen, Harriet had to internalize images of people's facial expressions so she could remember what they meant. But it was hard to consciously detect the expressions in the first place, which undid her self-sufficient effort. Her desire to not upset anyone made her mind go into overdrive to try and figure it out after the fact, especially now. Even so, she still got facial expressions wrong. Interacting with people was one area that made her unsettled, ungrounded.

Some of them smiled in amusement, their eyes twinkling, and it seemed to do something to them because they all relaxed and started their own conversations, eating more fervently now. She had no idea what just happened.

See? They didn't answer her questions when she asked what was going on.

Harriet returned to eating, feeling a little bit of disappointment that her questions weren't answered, but so many things zoomed through her head – computing her near drowning, the sickness, the horrid taste of the food, and Pan's leaving.

She replayed it over and over, her mind's eye getting closer to his face, trying to detect what was wrong. Maybe she remembered it wrong, because that was a very high possibility with anyone – memory is not exact – but his face fit the images she'd had to memorize, of hurt.

Harriet got up and left the camp, even though it was recommended that she stay seated and not move too much. This wouldn't take long to find.

The boys watched her leave, for some reason. Like where she went mattered to them. Once she was away from the camp she looked around, looking for a specific something. Her hand covered the top of her eyes like a hat to shield against the moonlight. She couldn't recall seeing one since she'd been here, but that didn't mean she couldn't find one, right? She searched high and low, and took a random left, before she found a specimen of what she was looking for. She looked them over on the bush they were on, trying to find the most perfect one. When she did so, she carefully plucked it and marched back to camp. It hit a tree and she nearly dropped it on it, and from then on she carried it in front of her there on out with her hands cupped over it, reminded to treat it delicately.

Once she entered the camp of boys, Harriet looked around for Pan. She spied Peter making another spear, moodily. She could detect immediately by the unnecessary force he used to carve it that he was upset. She was so glad she did this. Harriet walked over to him with fluid steps and shoved the delicate thing in his face.

Pan stopped when he saw a pink flower in his face. The hand holding it was pale and feminine, belonging to the only girl there. He followed the hand up to her face where she stood next to him, looking down at him with a blank but kind face.

"I hope you like it," She said. "You give flowers to people who are dead, or, to people who you want to like it. It's the second one," She told him categorically. She handed him the flower, he took it with one hand questioningly. For some reason, some of the people around them were smiling, not that Harriet noticed because she was single mindedly focused on Pan and whether or not he liked the gift.

"I'm going to bed, guys," She announced to the group. "Goodnight. I'm glad you're all okay."

She turned around and walked into the hut, already forgetting she gave Pan the flower. The Lost Boys saw, although she didn't, Pan's eyes following her as she left.

* * *

Harriet was getting ready for bed – happy to be in her routine again. Even though she didn't need to, she took off her cloak and folded it on the end of her bed, like she'd been doing for years – even though tonight she needed the warmth, she detected. She walked to the same side of the bed she always got into bed in, even though it was an awkward angle in this room, she pulled back the covers ready to climb in when she heard a footstep behind her.

She turned around to look at who was entering her room – her old room – so late at night, when she already said she was going to bed.

"Hello, Pan," She said serenely. What was he doing here? Maybe to tell her something. Or to ask her to make more food. Or maybe, to check her cloak was folded before she went to bed. That would be nice of him. A small seashell pink blush came to her cheeks at the thought. That would be so cool, so _caring_ of him. She liked that.

He closed the door and walked further into the room. She didn't like that he closed the door, because she had a set time in her routine that she was meant to do that. Before then, she liked to look out at the partial view of the hall it gave her. She didn't know why she was going to bed when it felt like she had been asleep forever – she just was.

His eyes were different than they normally were – they had a spark, not that she noticed other than the extra light that seemed to be in his eyes, like there was a lamp in there.

He came closer, and she counted the steps he made for fun. Four. Five.

Ooh, he was close, she noticed, shifting her weight.

An arm wrapped around her neck, he was that close, and brought her closer. His head was near hers. Harriet licked her lips for fun over Pan's shoulder, still tasting the horrid food one of the boys had cooked. Gruel. He took a minute step closer until he was pressed against her – his body along hers. She stood still, and finally, held his back, her arms curling over his back, feeling the difference between his back and his shoulder blades, something she hadn't anticipated, but had noticed the broadness of his back before. Her chin could rest on his shoulder, but she was facing the area where the wall met the ceiling in her room. Cobwebs. He seemed to let out a sigh when she touched his back, but she couldn't be sure that it was because of that. She thought about stroking his back and did so, because that comforted people. She wasn't sure what kind of a hug this was, but she didn't want to be inadequate in case he wanted comfort. It was in things like these that she was laughed at by people watching – for reasons she still couldn't determine. But she wanted to do it right for herself, she was just remembering the past times when she felt odd and people would laugh at her for something she couldn't control, or even notice until others pointed it out.

He said there was no wrong way to hug – but Harriet found that impossible. How did one not have preferences? Distinct, strict preferences? A way they liked things and would do it that way over and over?

Pan pulled his head away and Harriet held his face with her hands.

Nope. She couldn't read anything.

He looked …worse? She guessed. Because she hoped he was better, but always hoping didn't make it so, right? She suddenly noticed he was _Peter._

"My Pots and Pans." She cooed lovingly and kissed the tip of his nose quickly. He was okay. The look from before was gone. That meant the emotion was gone too, right? Or did it persist? Dear God this was complicated stuff. It was better she was never asked these kinds of questions, she thought gratefully.

He lay his forehead against hers, and she lowered her hands until they stayed still by her sides. She had no idea where to put them or what to do with them.

She felt a hand come up to the back of her hair, and he stroked it through and through. Harriet was wondering if there was a point to the whole action, because he got to the bottom of her hair then went up to the top again over and over slowly, without doing anything really, but she let it happen.

She was so close to him, she noticed in the back of her mind. They could breathe the same air. Why was he trying to breathe her air? Maybe this spot was just good? Why did he keep deciding that the spot she was in was good? Envy? She felt awful always having questions and never any answers. Was he trying to crush her with his forehead? Mind bend her into submission?

Mind control.

Just as Harriet was about to pull away, his arm tugged her closer until she really _was _against him and out of surprise her hands touched his back and she squeaked over his shoulder.

She felt his body vibrate, and she heard a chuckle in her ear, but she hated how she couldn't see him laugh, because just holding this spasming body without knowing what it looked like made her internally freak out. She felt a hand go into the roots of her hair, and she blinked, feeling like the hand maybe was trying to hold her still. She submitted to it the instant it touched the back of her head – it felt nice and she felt calm and blank minded. Her chin rested on his shoulder.

"Harriet," He whispered, the sound tickling her ear. She wondered why he did that – it's not like she was across the room. She hoped he wouldn't do that again, because she knew that it would start to irritate her how he was trying to push sound into her ear chamber.

His nose touched her neck, which she was fine with. Nothing made her jump, there. She was wondering if he was inspecting her for diseases or something. She hoped she'd do him proud. She really, really hoped so. Her heart fluttered in her chest and butterflies came to her stomach.

He pulled away – must be no diseases, she thought – and he brought his face in front of hers.

She blinked twice, hoping she can handle looking at him long enough for whatever obscure reason he decided to look at her full on in the face right in front of her face. Weirdo.

She watched Pan's lips try to touch her jaw. She leaned away from it a little, even with the hand in her hair. She moved away when he tried to kiss her cheek, but suddenly the thing in her hair clenched. Oh, the hand. She'd forgotten it was there while she was pulling away. He kissed her cheek, and she liked how he pressed into her that way. It sent a tingle in her body. He pulled back, and seemed to be looking at her face, which made her internally laugh because it was like he was reading the secrets to Egypt and the cosmos in it, which definitely wasn't on her face, before he went back again more firmly and kissed her cheek, temple, her forehead, her other cheek, her nose, her jaw again, before he pressed their foreheads together and Harriet wondered if she was supposed to feel something spectacular.

What was the point of any of this?

"I'm glad you're okay." He said, and her mind went back to her sick days. She didn't know how she felt about any of her experiences there, yet. At the same time, what _was _there to decide what she felt about? They were facts – her past. She didn't feel anything about facts. Everything else about it was relative, subjective. She wondered why her internal state of affairs affected him.

Okay, so, this was all about making sure she was okay? Why didn't he just ask her? She would give him a straight answer, always, because he was hers. Her Pots and Pans.

She looked down on his body, and noticed she didn't see the flower anywhere. Where did he put it? Did he even _keep _it, the douchebag, after she had so much trouble finding it?

Her eyes raised to his, but they were on her lips, right before their eyes connected.

His hand went down her hair again, and just as it touched her back she squeaked and yanked herself out of his strong hold until she was a few feet away.

Pan looked surprised.

"Don't touch my back." She said with eye contact and she walked quickly past him out of the room with a gust of wind following her. Her head went up at her door, then she walked back in and pushed him out, closing the door. She needed to sleep, she was almost late.

* * *

That's chapter 17.


	18. S1E17

Chapters 17, 18 and 19 all work in tandem. They follow one another closely, which is why I'm updating them close together. Read them together.

Chapter 17 was the hardest to write. Some things will be confusing in the three chapters.

Enjoy.

* * *

_Peter Pan admired Harriet from across the camp as she went about her motherly duties._

_He watched her slow walk, sometimes so full of hip, unintentionally sensual to watch. Her confidence, her surety, her calmness, her long hair that fell down her back. He admired her with all the love a boy could have in the world…_

* * *

Earlier that night, she had collided into Felix. By pure accident – of course.

She was okay, of course – she sort of just bounced off of him. Harriet soon retired into the hideaway, completely forgetting about it. She wanted to fix her jumbled thoughts from touching somebody, even though inadvertent.

"Just making sure you're okay."

He stayed standing behind her, and his hand slowly came up and held her hip. She jumped a little in her skin. Because she had not seen his hand rise, she couldn't be ready for it. She couldn't predict it.

"I don't like it when they touch you."

Harriet turned around, intellectually intrigued by this. She didn't understand boys – that was a fact, a fact to be redundant as soon as she filled that gap in knowledge. Were all boys like this? How fascinating.

"But you like it when you touch me." It was a wild guess – but since he kept doing it he must like it, right?

Pan grinned, taking her hand and she watched him put it on his cheek. She was afraid if he let it go her arm would just flop and then it would hit him and she hated the idea of touching someone without her palm firmly touching them. If it was a nudge, like with just her fingers, it was like a tickle, and Harriet personally hated accidental touches – her mind couldn't get away from it afterwards and she felt completely sick to her stomach.

"I do."

How fascinating.

This was unprecedented, Harriet thought. Now she could make an extra database, in her head, and fill it with all the information on boys, now that she had Pan to let her know this kind of stuff. How awesome! This was going to be so much fun!

Harriet was grinning, and Pan seemed to take in her lips.

So he liked it when _he _touched her, but not when others did. Harriet didn't know there was a difference.

How _fascinating_.

But if it kept him happy – then whatever. Harriet didn't like to be touched anyway – but when her Pots and Pans did, she tolerated it, because he was hers. If he wanted to touch her, that was okay. If it made him happy.

"Bye." Harriet turned and left, dust falling off the ladder as her steps fell on the rings, as she went out to get food.

* * *

Harriet came back with two bowls and Pan was gone. She felt disappointed and slightly angry he'd disappeared, when she had nonverbally – meaning, mentally - told him to stay. She kicked her door shut and put the bowls down on the table, thinking maybe she should pantomime him eating to make herself happy, when he appeared before her.

"You look stormy," She said. "I have yet to understand the emotion."

His eyes changed, and it seemed to fizzle away – whatever it was. Harriet mentally shrugged and turned away, before stopping, then turning back and pushing Pan with one hand on his chest to sit on the bed. It was more like a gentle shove than a push. She wordlessly turned around, picked up the bowls, and handed one to him, the spoon dipped in it already. It would be horrible if she forgot to add a spoon for him to eat – not to mention embarrassing that it happened in front of him. Her Pan. Harriet sat down on a chair on the other side of the room, digging in.

"Sit here, Harriet," Pan patted a wooden chair with the kind of back that reminded Harriet of a wool spinner's stool. The chair was right in front of him. She liked the one she was in, in the corner of the room, behind him.

"Why?"

He smiled softly. She didn't like how it made his eyes look – all glassy and soft. No. She had to look away from the shapes. It felt like the eyes would bug out and eat her.

"Just come. So I can see you. We can't eat together if we can't see each other, can we?"

Harriet's back straightened eagerly. She didn't know that seeing each other was a requirement to eating together. She thought they already were eating together… because they were… eating, together. In the same room.

Harriet bounced over happily, happy she was told a requirement that made her Pots and Pans happy, and sat down, digging in again happily. She knew that eating together made another person happy, and it was also a bonding… something, even though she'd never done it before. She always ate alone. Eating with others? Bonding with other people? _Near _other people? Ew. So many things she'd never considered doing before she met her Pots and Pans. All to make him happy. Harriet didn't see much of a difference whether she was in front of him or behind him when she was eating, but his body language was different now she was the former. That was good, she thought, when she bothered to check in. She thought the act alone of eating with her should make him happy – she shouldn't have to manually check. It was annoying. But, she thought, she could always be alone afterwards. She hadn't thought dining with someone else would be so taxing.

They ate in silence. Harriet was completely riveted on her food – so focused, she forgot Pan was there, until he made a sound that is, with his bowl, and she looked up at him sharply. She wasn't used to hearing sounds of other bowls so close. The Lost Boys kind of inhaled their food – she'd find spoons on the floor. If she ever ate in her room, it was alone, and the silence was all she could hear. But having someone else's clacking was only irritating to Harriet. It kept distracting her from her focus – with the effect of an ear splitting shriek.

Pan smiled when she looked up, and she wondered why, but she thought to mimic the expression like she'd seen other people do, and it came across fake, and she looked down at her food again.

Overall, the experience was grating, because of the constant sounds. Eventually she developed a tic every time it happened. He didn't notice. Once he was finished she quickly took on her last mouthful and stood up, collecting the bowls.

"It was nice." She said, giving feedback. "Annoying, but pleasant. Nice to see you. In a chair. There. With me." She formulated as she tried to churn her emotions into words, and turned around and left – his own response or thoughts on the event not even entering her mind as something that existed, or something she wanted to know.

She washed the dishes of the Lost Boys while up top at the river to get some distance, her sleeves rolled up neatly – which she was proud of – and once she was finished she loaded the dry brown bowls into a bag, closing the brown drawstring of the brown bag, and she walked back to camp.

Pan was there. The others had gone to sleep. She knew this because the fire had gone down. They always went to bed when the fire went down. They didn't just leave, or anything. This information was important to Harriet – to know where the multitude were to maneuver herself away from it and around it.

Harriet was getting irritated at constantly seeing Pan wherever she went. Was he like an apparition? Harriet was getting spooked at how he was _always _there. How did he get there? Where was he going? What was he doing? Why did he have two eyes and a mouth whenever she saw him? It was like, constantly seeing his face and his visage over and over was too much for her brain, and Harriet dumped the plates before even putting them away – breaking her routine – and she trotted inside to not look at him. Not seeing how his eyes followed her hungrily. She swiftly closed her creaking door once she was in her room.

She got into bed quickly – hoping to feel some comfort from the soft pillows and the soft covers. She even left her shoes and cloak on – with all the dirt she'd stepped in _in her bed_. That was like a no-no. Eating with another person _in her room, _not putting the plates away after washing them and _leaving them in an undisclosed place on the floor _and then leaving her _shoes_ _on in bed_ – with all the dirt on it and everything. She was so wild.

She hugged herself to comfort herself when the fact her shoes were on in her bed was distracting her from the softness of the pillows that normally comforted her, yet she felt too afraid that something else would happen if she moved and took off her shoes. Like something going wrong. Eating with someone, plates on the _ground, _shoes in bed, and then one more thing? She wouldn't be able to handle it.

The door to the room opened, and Harriet wondered if Pan had somehow decided he'd taken up permanent residence in here too.

"You sleep here too?" She said, turning onto her back. His eyes, his stare, was heavy and on her as he walked over. He got into the bed silently, and she kept staring at him for an answer. It didn't happen. Just as she rolled over again she squeaked when an arm brought her over to where Pan was, so she could lay on him. His arm held her shoulders. She felt odd. She'd never lain like this before. Her sense of gravity was off.

"No," She said, cutely to his ears, hands fisting in his shirt then she slid off him. She rolled over onto her side and he rolled after her and threw an arm over her waist. She pushed his arm off and slid away, pushing her head against the pillow. "Stay over there. You can come over later. I need space."

Pan settled into the pillow. The candles turned off all at once – thanks to Pan's magic.

Harriet wasn't fully settled yet – she'd need to sleep to get over her jumbled feelings over her huge break in routine, but she sat up and took off her shoes when she felt like she was calm enough to sit up without vomiting.

"Okay." She was ready.

She welcomed his arm around her waist and even cuddled it to her when he settled behind her back like it was the only place he could relax. Harriet felt something on her neck that made her turn her head sharply to look at him in the dark. "Hey, you, quit it."

He chuckled and shifted. Drew her closer.

"Are you trying to meld us together or something? You know that can only happen through the process of radio frequency welding, hot air sealing, solvent bonding, and hot wedge sealing? None of which are happening right now?"

Pan raised himself on one arm and she felt something stroke her arm, making her eyes dart to it to see his thumb there. The shapes were so odd, his rectangles of arms, around her arm, her body, the individual thumb perpendicular to her skin -

Harriet realized he didn't normally sleep here – after she was sick, that is. Now that she was normal, it was hard for her to imagine him – _another person _– to be in her bed. She was going to throw up in the morning, and she was going to throw up now if he didn't leave.

"Can you go away?"

He grinned, and suddenly, in his hand was the comb he gave her. It was exquisite, she thought as she saw it again.

"It's not as beautiful as you," She thought next out loud absentmindedly.

"Aw, I'm touched," He said, and she watched the comb move through the air.

He started to comb her hair with it and she came back to the real world and pushed his hand away.

"No, I don't want to be combed right now. Either fall asleep or just… leave. But just… be nice."

"As you wish." He grinned, and she watched him set the comb down. He grinned when he saw her do that, feeling pleasure that she liked his gift. She settled into bed and closed her eyes.

His fingers combed through her hair. She sighed and pushed his arm away, throwing it around her so he would stop. She felt him push his face against her neck – ew – and grin.

* * *

Yes, she'd doused herself in oil. It didn't matter too much to her. It wasn't a matter of personal opinion – she'd assessed the situation, and concluded that also taking the oil upon herself would get her what she wanted – and she wanted her freedom. She was a variable in a process of clockwork, a cog amongst other cogs. If she needed to light herself on fire to achieve her ends, she would light herself on fire to achieve her ends. It was a mental process – not an emotional one, as if the emotional realm didn't exist.

* * *

Hope you liked it, read on!


	19. S1E18

_The door closed in his face. He looked down at his hand. Don't touch her back… because it was… sensitive?_

_His mind flashed - she had pulled away from hugs when he touched her back. When she'd been recovering in bed, if his arm ever curled around her back she turned around so her back faced him or told him to lie on the other side of the bed. She let him touch her hair, her arms, but not her back. He hadn't thought anything of it at the time, but now that he had this knowledge, put the pieces together, and he knew her reaction to it…_

_Something happened to him._

_He couldn't describe it. All he knew was one minute he was in his room that he let Harriet stay in and the next he was out of the underground hideaway, searching for her retreating form._

_He had to chase after her. He had to find her._

_Her refusal and distance seemed to have the opposite intended effect on him – it only made him want to chase her more. He caught sight of her and was after her before you could say 'jackal'._

_After that night when he saw her fire, it was harder to control himself and his desire. And now he knew she'd let him touch her – he'd been so __**close **__to kissing her – it only fanned the flames in him. He was too far gone now to ever hide the wicked desire in his eyes._

* * *

It was another night Harriet had been back to camp. She still didn't take on the duties she had before, and to be honest, she didn't think she wanted to. She wandered into the forest around her, looking about, exploring.

She looked over her shoulder.

"Hi, Pan."

He stood quietly.

She returned to the branch she was touching the leaves of, before she let it go and walked on, her silent guardian following her. She didn't seem to mind as he did so, silently watching over her as she did things. She didn't do anything in particular – just whatever her mind was interested in at the time. Either way, he watched her.

* * *

He didn't leave her alone, for some reason. He kept finding her and trying to touch her. She would dart out of his hold at the last minute, stuck between him and the door, or him and the wall, or, at camp trying to get her to sit next to him. It was all because he wanted to touch her – she knew it. He wanted to touch her back – where she specifically told him not to. He liked to do it when they were alone, but when they were around the Lost Boys it was only more fervent.

He succeeded, once, because she had been preoccupied with a Lost Boy's need that when she sat down on a log she didn't notice the presence behind her until she'd sat on a lap, and a hand was touching her back. Her wide eyes went to Pan to make sure – if it was anyone else, she didn't care if they were hers, they were dead. Pan, though, she had let eat with her. And that, in her mind, gave him a salutation above the rest. He was a notch in only two on her proverbial bedpost – next to Tinker Bell's. So her reaction had not been immediate. Tinker Bell, she'd realized when she was making her trap, her stand – she realized that her mind went to her first when she was worried, so Tinker Bell had been the first notch on the bedspread. After Pan saved her from drowning and then stuck with her through her sick days, he was the second notch.

His grin was deranged, excited, pleased, all at once. He was finally getting to touch her back, her sensitive area, and in front of his boys. They'd have no doubt who she belonged to. He was claiming her visibly. Although he didn't need to claim her, not really, he felt the need to. He felt the need to show everyone, now that she wasn't strictly their mother, that she belonged to him – Pan. And touching her in a sensitive area, in front of others, who could not touch her, was just instinctually his plan.

Oh, she was like a delicate little rabbit. She kept getting away, but he was persistent. Now, finally, he was rewarded. He had a taste. After pursuing her for so long, he could finally touch her, through his own bountiful efforts.

Although Harriet had told him not to touch her back, she didn't mind all too much that he went against her word. Because it was Pots and Pans. And because it felt good. She liked him chasing after her, too. Sometimes, she didn't, she wanted to be left alone. And other times she completely forgot he existed. Actually, it was irritating. And inconvenient. It was usually when she was in the middle of thought – or in the middle of something – and there'd he be, trying to touch her, trying to get near her. Cornering her against a desk, or a wall, or her bed, and she'd have to dart out of his arms.

What made someone persist like that?

Harriet darted out of his hold, a feat he still could not fathom, although he chalked it up to how light and dainty she was, and she ran inside. Some of the boys chuckled at her reaction, they themselves being the only ones to witness the fire that continued to burn in Peter's eyes.

* * *

"Peter – " She sucked in a breath, his arms on either side of her where he'd caught her in the hallway against the wall.

"Are you going to run away again, little rabbit?" He asked, the spark in his eyes eternally lit, as of late. "Go on – run. Show me some fire. Defy me." He egged her on in a low voice.

Harriet looked between his eyes, not seeing anything there.

Running only seemed to make things worse.

She swallowed.

"Pan –"

Her cheek turned as he leant in and heatedly kissed her skin, his hands held her head gently, her face sliding under his hands as she moved her head away from him as he kissed her all over feverishly. Trapped between his body and the wall, where he liked her, her hands came up without force or conviction against his chest and his biceps to halt his force, only it was more like touches than pushes.

Dear God, he couldn't get enough of her. Everything about her drew him in. How he couldn't understand her, couldn't predict her, didn't know what shifted her from one mood to another, her eyes, her hair, her smile, her attention on him, her attention on anything but him, it all drew him in and he was lost in kissing her all over.

What he was doing was doing something to her body, and Harriet's eyes widened at it. Although the attention on her face didn't do much to her, it was his intensity of attention and sole focus on her that made her body hot. The second she could, Harriet darted out from under his arm, shutting her door after her.


	20. S1E19

Harriet watched Pan from across the camp.

He was making a spear.

And she watched him.

There he was, with the knife, focused on creating this spear. Harriet appeared next to him on a log, and sat down. He looked up in greeting, checking his handiwork and continuing. She watched him work. She could do this all day. It was just fun.

She was empty. There was nothing going on inside of her. She liked to watch Pan. She sat, completely still, as he worked and focused fully on the spear. Time could have passed like seconds on a clock but she stayed still, perfectly content just to watch him.

When he finished one spear and set it down, before moving onto the next, Harriet had been keeping herself so still she bounced a little on the log for no reason. He looked at her because of the movement as he drew up another stick to be made into a spear. She felt a flash of irritation – why did he stop? Why wasn't he getting to the point? Why was he breaking the pattern he was in?

There was no distinct pattern really, Pan carved and whittled with his knife, checked his angles, and adapted his next stroke according to that. Although there was no real set pattern in how he worked, there was a pattern in his focus. Good Jesus, why was he looking at her when she wasn't even distracting him or anything? Anger bubbled in her stomach. She left his side before he could do anything else that could severely irritate her and would take him off her list. She didn't want that.

* * *

Pan was in his room when Harriet appeared in the doorway. She moved behind him, just as he turned around and saw her. They were face to face.

She took a hold of his knee and shoulder, pinching one and using the other to throw him onto the bed. Can't move if your leg is stunned, can you? She thought.

Pan was on his stomach as Harriet crawled on top of him and sat on his waist.

She drew abstract patterns with her fingers along his back. She lost herself in these patterns, only coming back to herself randomly much later when she thought enough time had passed that forgetting to check in with Pan would be disastrous for their relationship. She looked at his face. It was to the side, and he was just staring ahead, seemingly accepting. Whatever.

"Can I walk again?" He asked. He could appear everywhere he needed to, but he needed his legs.

"Yes," She said in her calm, serious voice. "Just a pressure point. Used your shoulder to make you fall."

She put her hand in his hair and carded it, ruffled it up, pulling it through her fingers of one hand, messing it up. He blinked at the sensation but let her do it.

Then she went down his back and grabbed the fabric of his shirt, shaking it left to right and tugging on it.

"A shirt goes up and over my head, Harriet," He said, thinking she was trying to take it off.

She stopped, looked up at him.

"Oh, I'm not interested in taking your shirt off," She stated, and started doing it again. Pan bit his lip, hoping he didn't sound too eager. It appeared to fly right over her head, though.

When it was messy, she left it and picked up his left arm, her face near his bicep and her finger running down the side of his arm, looking for stitches.

"It's uncomfortable, Harriet," She lowered his arm a little.

"It's a magical shirt, Harriet,"

"So, what, a magical shirt that has magical invisible stitches?"

He chuckled. The bed bounced a little from it.

The hand on his arm squeezed.

Harriet got up off him and rushed to the bathroom, slamming the door shut. The next second he heard retching.

Harriet walked out of the bathroom with a bounce in her step, her mouth having been cleaned and brushed.

"What happened?"

But she was in thought of her next move and said as she got back on top of him,

"Must not say things in future to make you chuckle," He held in an amused chuckle at that for her. "When you chuckled, the bed vibrated in a way I've never seen before. It was too much at once."

With that she picked up his other arm, again at the uncomfortable angle but he didn't say anything.

"Are you okay?"

"Shut up," She said, focusing.

She shimmied down his legs, one hand on one thigh, the other pinching the fabric he wore. Seeing she couldn't do anything with that, she shimmied back up and sat back down on his waist, the bed not bouncing in how fluid her weight was. She didn't like unnecessary movement.

She drew abstract patterns on his back once again in the silence of the room. It made him feel wanted.

After some time she was going to get up, and leaned down to kiss him, realizing he needed something out of this as well or their relationship would grow disproportionate and then end. Harriet wondered where she would put it, her lips pursed. Harriet kissed his head, got up off him and left.

* * *

Pan thought if he left her alone, she would come to him. And he had been right. After going after her so heatedly, he forced himself to restrain himself, pulling back a little. After a while, it had worked, and she came to him while he was making a spear around the campfire. They just sat together while he worked, and it was nice.

"What did you get from… strapping me down to the bed like that?"

"I don't know. I just touched you."

Well, he liked it. "Did you enjoy it?"

She looked at him. Harriet did not know that her feelings on the matter had to be discussed.

"…Yes."

"Me too."

She looked forward. Silence.

"I hope you're okay, after throwing up…"

She was surprised, although her face was blank.

"Maybe you should eat –"

"I already did… …I'm fine."

"Good."

She stared into the fire and he whittled something.

That something he gave to her a few nights later. It was the carving of a lion, bone white. She looked down at it in the corner of her eye, before looking ahead. She took it.

Pan grinned. "What, don't you like it?"

She stared into the fire.

"I'm trying to determine the point of this gift."

She looked down at it in her hands, turning it over.

"To please you."

She turned it over.

"Aesthetically pleasing factors are the last thing, or not a thing at all, in my head…" She said slowly, turning it over, and staring at it from the side. She looked at him. "Aesthetically pleasing gifts are a waste of time if you want me to appreciate it."

Pan looked down at it in her hands thoughtfully, then back up to the side of the pale face he could see.

"Then what would you appreciate?"

"Gifts are a waste of time. I don't want anything."

Pan nodded, accepting.

* * *

"I want to keep a look out."

What for, she thought, some romantic notion?

"Pointless – but fine." She didn't care one way or another. As his back turned she stripped off her clothes and waded into the freezing water of the river, not stopping except once when her lower body was submerged in the water, then dunked herself in, pushing her hair back once she resurfaced and washing herself.

* * *

On the way back to camp, because they were still slightly wet, Harriet noticed how cold it had gotten.

"…Is there anything you want?" He asked from next to her.

They sat on a log at camp.

Her hand wrapped her cloak tighter around herself.

"It's getting cold. I want heat."

Pan waved his hand and the fire in the center roared to life, bringing heat immediately.

She turned her head to him.

"Thank you." She said. He smiled, making eye contact with his Boys, feeling chuffed.

* * *

"Johnny's mother had three children," Harriet said to the gathered Lost Boys at dinner. "The first child was named May. The second child was named June. What was the third child's name?"

They looked at each other and at her with smiles on their faces, when a boy shouted.

"July!"

"No," Harriet said with a grin. "Johnny."

* * *

Another riddle, another night.

"Without it, I'm dead. If I'm not, then I'm behind. What am I?"

There was silence at camp for awhile.

"A head!" said a fifteen year old boy.

"Good!" She praised with a smile.

* * *

"What can you always see, but no matter how much you travel towards it, you can never touch?" Harriet said with a smile to Pan.

Pan smirked at the challenge she issued him.

It took him a few days, but one day in the evening he came back to her with his hands framing his pelvis, saying,

"The horizon." And she smiled.

* * *

There were some riddles that they didn't get, like:

"Can you think of a common word that contains double C, double S and double L? Ooh! Can you think of a second one?"

To which the answer was, 'successfully' and 'unsuccessfully'.

Pan joined in with his own.

"How many times can you subtract the number two from the number fifty?"

The boys started counting on their fingers and toes. They came up with numerous answers, murmurs of thought, shouts, then anticipating silence all at varying times like the piping of an organ's pipes.

Harriet was walking behind a log packed with boys who were trying to figure it out, and she leaned down to the smallest one and whispered,

"You can only subtract it once. Then you're subtracting from fourty-eight." Pan let the boy take the credit for guessing the riddle right, but his eyes went to Harriet as she moved about folding her own washing.

When Harriet bathed in the river and washed herself off, Pan sat, keeping look out, his back to her. All they could hear in the jungle was the crickets and the sound of water splashing.

"I come in different shapes and sizes. Parts of me are curved, other parts are straight. You can put me anywhere you like, but there is only one right place for me. What am I?" He said.

Harriet was playing with a little circular bottle lid in the water. She looked down at it, and picked it up from the water, then flopped it down again with a little splash, making sure to stop it from drifting downstream.

Pan sat quietly for a while, holding a spear laxly to his shoulder, the butt on the ground by his thigh.

"I don't know," She said, washing her arm. "A jigsaw puzzle?"

He heard her giggle of delight and the sound teased him in the worst way possible. He grinned.

"Correct." His clever little Harriet. His mind flashed with the idea of _rewarding her, _but he kept it at bay. She'd been distant from him for a few days. He didn't want to push her.

When Harriet got out, Pan took a bath, and Harriet sat and kept a look out for him too. It hadn't been planned, it had just happened that way. He didn't need protection – against _what _she had no idea, who would hurt such a great guy like Pan? – because he could protect himself anyway. He was the biggest, baddest cat on the island. But she kept a look out for him.

He came over with a small towel and patted her face dry. She uttered a noise of protest, but ultimately let him do it. What was with his obsession of faces? But she let him do what he wanted – if it made him happy to dry her face, then she'd let him dry her face. It didn't matter to her. He swatted her nose with the towel playfully and she pulled her face away.

* * *

Credit for all the riddles go to blogs dot serious shops dot com - except for the riddle about the horizon, that was my one.


	21. S1E20

Language in this chapter.

* * *

Harriet liked it here, at Pan's camp, once she fully recovered. Her only dilemma, was what to do now.

She liked it at Pan's camp.

But at the same time -

Harriet was hers. She was whole unto herself. No one told her what to do, who she was, or what her life was going to be like. People _did _tell her what to do, who she was, and what her life was going to be like, but she didn't listen. She followed her own path, her own way, what was right for her. Because there was no other way. And Harriet wanted to be owned by herself, and for that to happen, she had to take care of herself and who she was. She had to engage it and take care of it and _own _it.

That's why Pan didn't own her. That's why those men – who thought they would own her like they owned her mother, they didn't. And she taught them that.

There was nothing emotional or declarative about it – it was just what it was. There was no arguing or a need to play it up. It was simple. It was fact. Right or wrong. Black or white.

Harriet had wanted to leave – she itched. She wanted something different, something autonomous, something for herself, that she could control. Something to call her own.

She thought about leaving, but then she discovered how much she liked it here, at the camp. Then she changed her mind. Harriet thought about the future consequences if she stayed – that she'd staged a trap, huffed and puffed, and nothing happened. No consequences. If she stayed, in the future it would look like she wasn't worth her salt when she said something, or that she stuck to her guns. She wouldn't be taken seriously when she spoke against, or for something, because when Harriet spoke for, or against something, she meant it with ever fiber of her being, and not only would she hate to not be taken seriously, it would also ruin her and everyone else.

If she left, it was a free world. A free island. If she hadn't been dreaming about what Pan said. She wasn't going to believe it, because she had been sick through the whole thing and wasn't sure if it was another of the many dreams she'd been having while she slept. She wasn't too swayed – it was just another factor in a plan, which was a multiple of factors, which changed its face when each cog changed.

Pan was hers. She got up and appeared in front of him. She leant on her toes and kissed his lower cheek. Kissed, and kissed his skin, other parts of his lower cheek, then the other side, all barely touching him with the rest of her body save for a hand holding the front of his shirt, and then she turned and walked away.

"I wouldn't tease him if I were you,"

Harriet looked up at Felix across the camp, who was teasing her with a slick smile from another log in the middle of the day.

"_Teasing _him?"

He let out a short chuckle.

"You don't see the way he looks at you?"

"It's not like I watch him."

He grinned and his thumbnail scratched at his eyebrow.

"Alrighty,"

* * *

What did he mean, 'looks at her'? Of course Pan looked at her! She was there, visible, at camp. She'd be worried about his eyesight if he couldn't see her. _The way he looks at you – _it's these kind of riddles that made Harriet cry at night. It was the exact reason she kept a journal, a book, full of things that people said that she didn't understand, and she brought it with her wherever she went on her travels of the world so that she could get a nice, large collection. She'd lost it in a fire. She'd wanted to start up another one, but, she could never make it as good as the first one. It would take too long. Besides, nothing could beat the original. But if she had wanted to make another one, this riddle would be a good place to start.

Sometimes, if she got particularly frustrated, and couldn't cry it out, Harriet would flip open the book and read a line, and she'd start crying. Then she'd cry out all her frustrations of all the difficulties and struggles she had going on, and then she closed the book, locked it, and left it somewhere safe.

Harriet got up and glided out of the camp, intent on a destination.

Harriet sat down mechanically under a tree she picked in the spur of the moment to like, and wrapped her arms around her knees, realizing she hadn't cried out her feelings in a while – not since the sickness. It was like a… cleansing.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to cry at the riddle – the joke – the tease – because it was something she'd never be able to figure out. But she didn't feel upset.

"The – way – he looks at you… The _way _he looks at you… The _way _he _looks _at you…"

"youuuu…."

No, it wasn't working. It was like her brain could not for the life of her wrap around the words. She decided to repeat it again.

"The waaay he looks at you. The way he looks at you. The _waaAY _he _LOOKS _AT _you_!"

"The way who looks at you?"

"Aah!" She jumped, then continued to the voice, "- I know right! It's that confusing!" She looked to her right and saw Pan. She jumped up, voicing her inner dialogue. "Yaay, Pan is here!" She ran over two steps, but seemed to think twice about hugging him, and then just stood still. "Hi." She said.

Pan stopped leaning on the tree he was leaning on.

"The way who looks at you?" He said, his arms folded. She smiled at him. Gosh the light looked so good on him. He wore it so nice. Like an accessory. Like a scarf.

She burst into laughter, then remembered the conversation.

"Oh, no one," She said, taking a step to the right as he walked to the left, the two circling one another, Harriet grinning ear to ear at the sight of him. "Just _somebody _that apparently _watches _me when I'm _apparently _not _looking…_" She said, stressing certain words because it sounded funny, not because she was implying anything. She faced him suddenly. "It makes no sense – how is there a _way _that somebody looks at someone? It makes no sense, Pan! It's these things that make me cry at night!" She threw her hands up and went off to stalk into the woods when Pan appeared in front of her, by magic.

"The way _who _looks at you?" He said more seriously. Harriet grinned at the word game.

"I'm sure you can _guess –_there's only what, twenty five of you?" She guessed randomly, hands in her pockets, sauntering around him, before turning around to face him right before he turned around to face her. "I like this game."

"No games." He said seriously. Her face fell. And so did her shoulders.

"No games?"

He sighed heavily through his nose as he stared hard at her, like he was trying to drill the information out of her, bouncing on his ankle.

"Tell me, Harriet."

"Fine – you. Felix said I should see 'the way you look at me'."

Pan blinked at the information.

"I know right, I don't get it either." She pushed past him, intent on going to the river to get some water – she _so _did not feel like drinking out of the canisters at the camp, where Felix was, where Felix had drunk from it – where Felix's name was _said _there –

"Harriet."

She turned around, mind slipping to a common term in the Earth world.

"Yo."

He blinked confusedly. He had not heard of this 'yo'.

He seemed to look at her for a while, assess her, take her in. Harriet hated it when people did this to her, because she knew she was meant to stand around for something but she didn't know what. It made her agitated. So Harriet walked off before Pan could say 'never mind' like he'd intended.

* * *

She was… different. Strange.

Not warming up to him the way he hoped. It had been promising in the beginning – but he felt like he wasn't making any progress. He thought about telling her, telling her everything, just then, but decided, when he looked her over, that she was far from ready. She wasn't ready to hear it yet.

* * *

"Shin splints, dickheads, molly coddly shitheads,"

Harriet rhymed to herself as she traveled through the forest, bouncing with the words. The words themselves meant nothing to her, it was all she used to hear back in the other worlds, from adverts, from people complaining about other people, she was just repeating them and making a rhyme out of it. She used the words to count the last 14 steps back to the forest.

"Sordid, pancakes, terry - baked - ice cream - sundae!" And with that she broke out into the camp. Everybody looked up and at her, but she ignored them in favor of going over to Felix with a fierce look.

"I tried to sort out your riddle," She said, calmly with a hint of heat. The boy looked up at her and seemed like he was trying to think back and not sure what to make of her, before he smiled while letting out a breath. "Just so you know, I figured it out." Then she stomped to the hideaway hut, and once the hatch was slammed closed, she walked calmly to her room with her cloak trailing after her like a snake in the air.

She so hadn't. She was lying.

Harriet flopped onto her bed, on her back. _How _was she going to figure this out?

* * *

Harriet was just about to close her door for the night when she heard a knock from the nearly closed door. She opened it, peaking out.

"Do you want to speak?" She asked him. "I can make time, two minutes max. Then I have to sleep."

She opened the door and he walked in, looking around. She still didn't seem to realize that this was his room. He didn't care all too much – it meant he could hold her at night and be near her.

She wrung her hands, and looked at him, putting her hands in her cloak – only to realize she folded it up already and it was on her bed covers. He followed her eyes and said,

"Folded it up already? Are you cold?" He turned his head away and waved his hand – all of the candles in the room lighting.

Harriet was stricken – he _noticed _that she'd folded her cloak up? Her heart leapt in her chest to a wild beat of happiness and excitement, a seashell pink blush spreading across her cheeks. She didn't think he'd _notice_! But he had! Oh lucky days!

How did he _know _her trail of thought just by looking at her? She needed him around more often to decode stuff on other people! This guy was a genius!

Pan looked back at her at her excited gasp and noticed she was blushing. Why? Was it because he was alone with her in 'her' room? No, that had happened before. He thought maybe it had something to do with his concern - but she'd never expressed gratitude over whether he thought anything or not about her.

"I'm so glad you noticed," She gushed, then she stepped forward hugely with a serious face. "I've been given this riddle, and I'm not going to sleep until I figure it out."

He raised one eyebrow.

"What riddle?"

"The _way _he looks at you!" She paced. "The _way _he looks at you!" She threw her hands up. "The _way _he looks at you! There's obviously something there but I'm just not getting it – "

"I like you."

"Oh, I like you too, Pan, but this riddle is going to bug me –"

"It _isn't _a riddle," He cut in.

"It isn't?" Oh that's right, he's Mr. Smarty Pants who can decode the un-decodeable. Harriet sat obediently upon her bed with an eager bounce, ready to listen to the words of wisdom from the master.

He sighed.

"He's talking about the way I look at you."

She squinted.

"I _know _that." They shared a silence. "But what's so perplexing is why he would even bring it up – I mean, _what's the difference _between the way I look at you, and I look at… my pillow? Or… how you look at me, and look at a bar of soap?"

"There's a difference." He said monotonely. Her face opened up.

"Woooow." She said breathlessly. The master had spoken. Maybe he'd speak more words of wisdom if she waited?

"I look at you differently than a bar of soap."

Harriet's heart fell. Was that bad? Was the soap more special than her? That evil soap!

Pan suddenly sighed and she watched him walk over to her bed – and by god he dared – sit on it.

She shot up.

"WILL YOU GET OFF MY BED?! AND NOT SIT ON IT EVER AGAIN WITHOUT PERMISSION!" He leapt up, hands up.

"Woah, Harriet,"

"Don't 'woah' me!" She pointed a finger in his face. "I've allowed you in my room _two minutes _before I go to sleep, on a day that I say I have an unsolvable mystery to solve, something I do for _no one _and then you come in here and sit on my bed!"

Her shoulders dropped and so did the fierce look on her face, back to blankness. She sat down on her bed, then stood up and dragged over a chair, saying gently, all anger forgotten,

"Sit."

How Pan just wanted to _show _her what he meant. But she wouldn't even let him near her bed. Today he had to leave, come back another day. He had to pick his battles.

"Goodnight, Harriet."

She looked slightly annoyed that he didn't sit, because she had _moved a chair in her room for him, _right before bedtimeand then he didn't _sit? _He was rapidly on his way to getting off her list.

He turned and left before he could lose any more points with her.

* * *

A blonde strolled out to the washing line to get her last bit of clothing, when suddenly a figure appears in front of her.

"The _way _he looks at me."

"What?"

Tinker Bell got a good look at Harriet, who was staring into her.

"The _way _he looks at me. That's the riddle, Tinker Bell. Solve it."

"The way he – What's going on?"

"It's the riddle, Tinker Bell. The _way _he looks at me. Felix gave it to me tonight. I can't figure it out. But I bet you can, though," She grinned.

Tinker Bell shook her head, trying to understand the multitude of sudden information.

"What the -? Harriet, _where were you_? What happened? One minute you're here, then you're gone, for like, three weeks! I was so worried about you!"

Harriet was paused, taking this in. Wow. That must be… well, terrible.

"I'm sorry." She said sincerely. Then, "But I nearly drowned… and then, I got really sick for two weeks. I couldn't get out of bed." The way she said it was unplanned. It just happened.

Tinker Bell looked Harriet over with light blue eyes, thinking she looked just fine for someone who had a covert operation, then was nearly drowned, then was sick for two weeks.

"Oh yeah! And that reminds me!" said Tinker Bell angrily, to which Harriet was surprised at the surfacing of that emotion. "You hurt me three weeks ago, left me high and dry!"

"You were scared. You ran away."

"I - … I did what I had to!"

"No you didn't. You were scared and ran away."

"Because you frightened me!"

"That's the definition of being scared, yes. But yes, I did threaten you."

"THREATEN me?! I couldn't sleep for two nights!"

"Oh gosh."

"YES!"

"Dear."

"YES!"

"That must have been awful. I can't imagine losing two nights of sleep." Then Harriet looked away in a downward diagonal. "But I had a really awful two days too… I kept thinking about you… Except when I was being smashed against a rock – then I wasn't thinking about you but something else," Harriet turned, looking about the clearing. It all looked so… the same, yet different. She thought it would have changed more in the time she was gone. Guess not!

Because of the rock part, Tinker Bell forgot about the part where Harriet made it sound like it was awful to –

"Hang on, it was _awful _to think about me?"

Harriet looked startled.

"No! I didn't mean it that way! I meant – "

"What did you mean?"

"Would you let me _finish_? I meant that I had a really bad two days, and I kept thinking about you because I missed you and to make it better! …But I was glad you were safe in your hut for those two days, even if you couldn't sleep. Better than dead."

"Harriet, I don't understand you!" Tinker Bell exploded frustratedly, her hands in the air like she was holding two earrings as offerings and shaking them side to side as well as her head.

Harriet looked hurt, but she wasn't sure if she was meant to feel that way or not. In fact, she felt nothing over the information. It didn't affect her whatsoever. It's not like Tinker Bell died. She was just angry. And anger was temporary. She was going to storm back into her house, and then fume for a few days, and then Harriet could come back and their relationship would be fine. But Harriet's face morphed into hurt out of habit, out of seeing so many times people's faces morphing into hurt at whatever is said at this point in a conversation. It just copied it, like a pre-recorded message, and when she noticed herself do this she felt sad that she seemed like a robot and wondered if it was bad.

But she was also fascinated, as she was every time, when Tinker Bell bought the look on her face. Harriet was in silent awe of her power.

Wow.

Expressions were so powerful. They made people move and do things in a way Harriet didn't understand, it was just more powerful than when she used her meaningful words alone. It's a shame she didn't know how to use them – it's a shame she kept forgetting what they did to people in the first place. Harriet inwardly sighed. It's like the hieroglyphics – she needed a Rosetta stone to decode it. Man, where was she going to get one of those?

"Anyway, if you're done, I need help with this riddle. You'll get it, because I don't."

"Are you seriously asking me for help?"

"Seriously." She affirmed, hands in her pockets, stance casual.

"Well I'm not helping you!" Tinker Bell grabbed her shirt from the line and threw it in her basket. "You treated me, like a poor friend!" She grabbed her washing basket and pulled it up from the ground with more force than necessary, which Harriet blinked it. That was her first clue that something was wrong. "And you never apologized!" Tinker Bell spat with eye contact, and rushed off with her basket.

Her hut closed with a smart, angry snap.

Harriet blinked. Her hinges would fall off soon, judging by the sound alone. She should get something to replace it with.

* * *

Harriet was digging around in the camp's supplies when a Lost Boy walked by and saw her. He poked his head in.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking… for adhesive…" She put down a supply bag noisily. "Do you have any glue? Any bamboo? Any wood?"

"Uh, sure," He said uncertainly. "Pan would have some."

"_Always _Pan," She said, putting down the bag and getting up, her legs hurting after sitting on them for so long. "I'm tired of hearing his name. P-A-N, numerically, 7-1-5, if the alphabet is divided into 9 like used in Numerology, a division of magic and sorcery, also regarded as 'pop culture hooey'. 7-1-5 on a password lock is a poor combination by anyone's standards." She turned to the confused boy, leaning over him. "You wouldn't use 7-1-5 on a password lock, now would you, boy?"

To his credit, he didn't run away, but stood his ground, nervously scratching his cheek.

"No, mother." He gave her eye contact.

"I'm not your mother."

"No, mother."

She allowed a grin to come to her face.

"Now go on now, you squirt."

He practically ran away. She started grinning, and let out a bubbling laugh.

* * *

"What… is this?!"

Tinker Bell dumped a bunch of wood, bamboo, and other tools onto the ground nearby Harriet, who was sitting in the bushes just outside of Tinker Bell's clearing, but far enough to not be considered invasive. Harriet frowned, if she did that she would damage the wood for her door. Then her door would be damaged. Nothing but the best for Tinker Bell.

"Supplies." She said, nonchalantly, putting another small bite of food she kept in her pocket in her mouth. She was having a mini picnic. "Your door's going to fall off."

"What?! My door is _not _going to fall off!" Tinker Bell shouted heatedly down at the girl. "And even if it _was, _I don't need your help! I can take care of _myself_!" The petite girl furiously pointed a thumb towards herself, then marched back to her hut. Harriet wanted to say something, but didn't because it might make it worse. She just focused on getting food out from her teeth with her tongue while she watched Tinker Bell.

Her door slammed shut and the hinge broke. No more door.

Harriet turned her back again and just ate quietly, staring down at her picnic.

"Why did you do this?" She heard, from the more quiet voice behind her.

She turned around and stood, patting off her cloak of dust and dirt. Tinker Bell was mentioning the supplies.

"To take care of you," Harriet said caringly like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Tinker Bell looked down to the supplies then to her. "You're mine." She said, and wordlessly got down, picking up the supplies more gently and categorically than her friend had, and moving it to the door. There, Harriet stared at the door, but before Tinker Bell could say

"Don't break it –"

Harriet grabbed its side and kicked it.

CREAK.

The door dropped to the floor.

It was definitely time for that door to go.

Harriet didn't look at Tinker Bell once as she measured out wood and used glue and adhesives to make a door the right size.

Tinker Bell watched the whole time, hugging herself, as Harriet sat on the ground with her legs out, working like she had a project, or was a kid making a house out of lego, not looking up at Tinker Bell once even when she was finished.

"Bamboo's stronger than wood," She said at the end, tapping it with her knuckles to hear the hollow sound. It hurt her knuckles. "Ow. Let that dry, I'll come back and put it up later," She said about the wood being held together. Harriet blinked as she stared at the wood. It should whether rain and storm like the last one, _and _when it was closed, there shouldn't be a draft, like the last one. She would wait until she knew it worked before she felt pleased at having given Tinker Bell this. If, she even felt pleased. Who knew what she'd feel.

Harriet's tongue moved around her mouth, and she stood up, moving all her tools and glue out of the way of the doorway, before walking through the clearing and past Tinker Bell like nothing happened.

"Wait, I just wanted to thank you –"

Harriet just disappeared into the brush.

* * *

"Shitheads, milkheads, mother fucking dickheads,"

Harriet walked into the clearing, realizing that the Boys heard her.

"None of you repeat any of that – those words. Kay?" She walked with her eyes on the ground to the hideaway hut.

"Oh, Harriet –"

Harriet stopped, her head tilting. It was so odd to hear one of the Boys calling her Harriet.

"Dinner's about to start."

"I know. I'm not a dimwit."

"…Are you going to make the fire?" Harriet's foot turned and looked at all of them. _They _were initiating dinner, at the _same time _as yesterday? She thought being a few extra minutes at Tinker Bell's wouldn't affect them. The boys were so rambunctious and carefree – and Pan controlled time here. So how – why – did they suddenly want routine? Anyway…

She thought to smile, because that made people relax in previously 'tense' and 'awkward' situations which just meant – silence for a long time, to Harriet.

"No, Teag, you go ahead." She walked on before Teag stood up.

"…Harriet, mother," She stopped, and turned around to face him fully, face blank but ready to hear things. "Will you teach me how to read too?"

"Sure. I'll be out in a minute. Got glue on my hands. Uncomfortable," She muttered the last part to herself, going to wash her hands.


	22. S1E21

The Lost Boys had missed her – missed the routine, the structure, she gave them when she had been mother. Yes they were still rambunctious and rowdy and messy, but there was a set time to eat, a set time to sleep, and a set time to play. It was… structure. Organization. Routine. Things they'd never had before in Neverland. Things they left, yes, when they left their parents, but they never quite knew it could be so good to them as when Harriet arrived. They resisted and bucked the routine inwardly, but they went along with what she said because she was their 'mother' and they went along with Pan's game. But slowly, they became used to it. Used to her presence, her oddness, her words. And then when she was gone – it was like something was missing.

They had to take care of themselves again, get their own feeding regimes going, groups of boys to hunt, groups of boys to cook, groups of boys to clean dishes, and they hated going back to that. They hadn't realized how good they had it not having to do those things for a while. And then they had to _eat _what they cooked – and after Harriet's gathering skills, they realized how awful food had been before. They had just never cared. They had to wash their own clothes and do all the things they hadn't done because Harriet had been doing them, and suddenly, they all appreciated what she did a whole lot more. All of a sudden, things were the way they used to be, and after having a taste of what things could be like with a mother, they felt down hearted.

* * *

The flute's musical notes went off tune and died as the flute went splat on Pan's lap, Harriet's hand on it like a cat's paw on a bird.

The flute went flying across the camp into the bushes. Pan stared at her in complete surprise. He'd never seen a reaction like that before to the music.

"Noises like that shouldn't come from such pretty lips." She said factually. "It should only come from mermaids' lips – it's their flute, isn't it? You shouldn't play with things like that." She blinked slowly. "You don't know what you're getting into."

Pan smirked, holding out his hand and the flute appeared in it. He grinned and pulled it back to his lips.

"From such pretty lips? Why, Harriet, you flatter me. I didn't know you looked at my lips like that." Although he'd been teasing, his heart beat faster. "This is the second time you've compared me to mermaids,"

"Compared you to mermaids? No, you completely blow them out of the park."

He grinned and looked down, letting out a bashful breath, a small bit of pink appearing on his cheeks.

She said it all very factually like it was the truth, and looked around at her environment after she said it like it was no revelation.

"I'm flattered," He said and leaned over, kissing her cheek. She blinked and her cheeks warmed as she looked away, blinking as she thought.

"Mermaids are ugly," She said. "Their voices, their faces, their tails. It's pure ugliness." She said, shifting her shoulder absentmindedly. "They're hailed and praised for their beauty, but, when I saw them, although they were alluring, they were nothing compared to you, Pan," When she had seen him that night, with the light of the fire cast on his face. He was a thousand times more… something, beautiful, maybe, in some way, to her, that she stayed. The mermaids tried to lure her out to sea, but she'd felt completely unaffected.

Pan grinned, pleased in a male way that she thought so highly of him that he was above the most sensual, beautiful and alluring creatures known to mankind in her eyes. That he was above the creatures most considered perfect, that left one sex wanting to be them or causing great jealousy and the other sex to have them and seek after them without parallel.

In Harriet's mind she wasn't complimenting him or playing up his beauty – it was a fact. It was all facts - truth.

"To be honest I was disappointed."

He blinked, trying to understand.

"About the mermaids I mean. I thought they would be easier to succumb to. But, no."

"Maybe it doesn't work on women,"

Harriet gasped, back straightening from her casual slouch. The other boys at the camp looked over and Pan sent them a look, and then they went back to pretending they weren't listening in on their conversation.

"It doesn't?!" His face morphed into a grin at her. "So my whole life's a lie?!"

"That, or you've just got beeswax in your ear," He joked.

Harriet reached up to her ear and felt it, but Pan chuckled and told her he was joking. But she was feeling her ear and said,

"Must investigate further."

Harriet thought about how her earlier words sounded and thought she should elaborate so he didn't misunderstand her. "You're prettier than a mermaid, I mean. Everything about them is ugly. Their voices, their faces, it's all wrong." She looked over at him. "You shouldn't play their music."

"Well you can hear it, can't you?"

"Of course I can. I'm not deaf. But it's ugly. Don't do it." The sound made her ears want to bleed. _Pan _doing it was devastating.

"Who said it was the mermaids'?"

Harriet looked back to him informatively.

"It's the same distinct feeling I felt when they spoke to me – it must be of their essence, of their magic," She looked down at her grub. "Now if you don't mind, I'm eating, don't play any silly tunes right next to me."

"Why do you call me 'Pots and Pans'? Tell me Harriet." Pan looked up at her from his flute, beginning to play it again. The flute went flying.

"No."

* * *

Harriet had just finished putting up Tinker Bell's new door. It was really simple once the door was made and the adhesive dried, she just picked it up and screwed it on. But Tinker Bell acted like she'd just saved the world from eternal damnation.

Harriet was busying loading her arms with all the supplies and tools as Tinker Bell fluttered around her, babbling on endlessly. Harriet stood up with the supplies, but then she just dropped them for an unapparent reason.

Tinker Bell looked at her, but then her eyes glazed over.

"There had been a fire, right after you told me to stay away,"

"And did you not think I was in it?! – Fire, to destroy all you've got," She mimicked like a record player. Tinker Bell looked at her oddly.

"What was that?"

"That was a song."

"Not any song I've heard of,"

"Where did _you _grow up?"

Tinker Bell frowned.

"The Enchanted Forest," her frown unpursed. "like you said you did,"

"Wrong ~" Harriet chimed, turning ninety degrees so her cloak would swish artistically. "You said, 'are you from the enchanted forest?' And I said, 'I think that's what it's called, yes'"

"So that's a yes."

"No, that's a no."

"You didn't say no."

"I meant no. But yes. …No."

"What?" They said at the same time.

"I don't know anymore." Tinker Bell said, shaking her head. Nothing was sure with Harriet, she remembered. She'd somehow forgotten that while Harriet had been away.

Harriet looked out into the forest.

"So… what land _do _you come from?"

Harriet looked at Tinker Bell with mild surprise.

"Oh, I don't know. I left without bothering to find out. I _think _it was the Enchanted Forest, because I remember going there and it looked just like where I'd come from."

"But everyone grows up knowing where they live,"

Harriet shrugged.

"It never mattered to me. I was too young to remember, if I had been told. Let's just say I was … uneducated."

Harriet looked out into the forest, differently this time.

"He won't leave me alone." Harriet said.

"What?" Tinker Bell hadn't heard her.

"Nothing," sighed Harriet. "I'm leaving, see you another time, bye…"

* * *

Mermaids, of course, _are _incredibly beautiful, this is just Harriet's opinion because Pan is in the picture :P


	23. S1E22

Some mature themes of a sexual nature in one scene here. Briefly descriptive, T rating.

* * *

Harriet's life was so sad she only remembered a happy time when she was living in the moment. She sometimes pretended there were happy times, just to make things feel better. Imaginary friends, an imaginary family, playmates, she pretended she had it all. She felt rich.

But Harriet was broken hearted. She was broken hearted over so much. She had so much reason to be angry, self-righteous, rejected, confused, and deeply unhappy.

Yet, Harriet thought to herself, nothing gave her a reason to hurt herself. By holding on. Holding onto the past didn't benefit her – it didn't hurt any of her persecutors or abusers or her neglectors. It didn't affect them. It was only a cancer to herself. They would live on – and she would be here, with these issues. They would be unaffected, no matter how often and how deeply she wished they'd just give a damn and be hurt by her pain.

She needed to heal. She needed to be able to let it go. It wasn't condoning anything that happened. Forgiveness was the only answer – it was saying she was strong enough, and worthy enough to not torture herself with the past anymore. Only the strong could forgive truly horrifying, sickening, and appalling crimes. Things so dark, so full of shame at having it, that they could never see the light on their own. Forgiveness was her path – it was what she needed to do.

Her near-drowning experience had dislodged the shard in her, the shard that had kept her healing at bay - her willingness to let go and heal. Move on. It kept all her anger and her sorrows out, because they were too difficult and painful to feel. But Harriet saw now she needed to engage her dark night, before she would ever see the light. Before things could get better inside of her.

Right now, it was a dark night inside of her. There was blackness. She had to go inside, go away, and heal. Face the broken parts of her childhood.

Inside, she was a broken hearted little girl. Broken hearted little girl's couldn't love anyone. She had some growing up to do. If she wanted to have a deep relationship with anyone, or with life, she had to grow that little girl up. She couldn't love herself, or love Pan, or anyone, if she didn't first heal the cracks in her heart.

And that's why she left Pan's camp.

* * *

Harriet trudged back to camp sadly. She liked Pan. She hoped he'd appreciate the sentiment – be pleased with her. She wanted him to be pleased with her, like her too.

* * *

They both fell asleep. He in her neck, she, wrapped around him. Only after finally taking her shoes off.

* * *

She was always covered up. He'd allowed it when she came to Neverland. She was very pretty, and she had caught the eye of a few of his boys, until he told them she would be their mother, that is. They quickly dropped their eyes that had been on her. He didn't like the idea of her showing skin to other boys.

* * *

"Ow, Peter – " She said, whined. "Just don't – just don't touch my back."

She was lying down on her stomach diagonally on the bed – from where he caught her. He was sitting on her back, and despite her words, his hands rubbed circles in her back.

Her eyes slid closed and she tried to hold it in, her sigh, but it felt too good and she let it out.

His hands were rubbing circles, massaging, moving, and when he hit a spot her shoulders rose and she keened.

Why was he doing this lately? It had started out with a kiss, and it was just slowly getting more heated. How did he keep trying to find her and kiss her, touch her?

The candles were lit in the dim room, Harriet had not yet changed to go to bed, and the night was cool.

He loved the sounds she was making. He looked down at his hands. He was only touching her through her cloak, but he fantasized about touching her on her bare skin. Skin only he'd see.

His.

His hands had moved lower as he made circles, and they hit a new spot on her lower back. As the pleasant tingles ran through her, Harriet's face went blank and she opened her eyes. This one felt different. Different than the other touches, what they did to her. It made warmth go down into her abdomen and she felt tingly and wet down there. Her eyes swiveled a little, then abruptly she shot up, trying to keep her hair out of her face as she got off the bed.

"I'll sleep outside tonight. Goodbye!"

* * *

She leaned forward and Tinker Bell was shocked still as Harriet put her mouth on hers. Harriet leaned back and wiped her mouth.

"Not romantic attraction," Harriet said. "Expression of affection and possession."

She turned around and went for the forest at the end of the clearing.

"Possession?!" yelled Tinker Bell in incredulousness at the hut, the new door sticking firmly.

She turned at the end of the clearing, giving eye contact.

"You're mine." She stated calmly, and then pushed some ferns out of the way as she left. That was the last Tinker Bell saw of Harriet for a long, long time.


	24. Interlude 1

Just wanted to explain some things.

In the last chapter, I put Pan saying 'maybe you have beeswax in your ear' concerning that fact that Harriet hadn't been lured by the mermaid's siren song, and that's because in the legend of Odysseus, the witch told him because he was about to sail into mermaid waters to put beeswax in his men's ears so they couldn't hear the siren's song.

'Second time you've compared me to a mermaid' - When Pan gave Harriet the mermaid comb, it was described repeatedly how exquisite it was, and yet when Harriet saw it a second time she thought out loud that it was not as beautiful as him. Then in the last chapter, she nonchalantly commented that he 'blew mermaids out of the park' when being compared to them.

When Harriet fixed Tinker Bell's door and Tinker Bell was acting like she had 'saved the world from eternal damnation' meaning that Harriet found making the door really simple and easy, yet Tinker Bell thought it was so impressive she was able to do that. Also, here, she accepted the door as an apology, even though Harriet didn't see it as one. Well done to Polly and her Cracker.

* * *

Chapter Twenty Four - Interlude

* * *

Wandering through the forest. Everything is green, except the sky and the ground. A gingerbread house sat with a smoking chimney in the woods. The girl stopped, staring at the swirls on the soft brown house.

"Oh, dear, are you lost?" said a woman in her middle ages, a large woman. The figure looked away from the swirls and at up the woman who looked concerned down at the young girl.

"I'm lost, yes." said the girl, far more maturely for her age than most. The woman blinked.

The girl was dirty and didn't have very good clothes. She wondered where her parents were.

"Well come inside dear, you'll catch a cold outside."

"Why?" The woman stopped and turned around to face the little girl who stayed where she was. "Why go inside?"

The large woman smiled, heartfeltly.

"So you can have something to eat. It'll warm you up. You can sleep here tonight, if you have nowhere else to go," The woman said kindly, wringing her hands on her apron. The girl's eyes were caught by the movement, and she stared at it. The woman didn't notice and went inside, leaving the door open.

The figure just looked out into the forest, standing completely still.

The matron of the cottage stirred the stew, humming cheerfully to herself.

Her front door creaked open later and the girl walked in, standing there.

"Well shut the door, dear, or you'll let the warm air out,"

She turned after a moment to find the door.

"let the warm air out," She repeated to herself, shutting the door. The matron pretended she didn't hear the words for now, but smiled a little.

"Well, sit. I hope you like stew,"

The girl found the table and sat down obediently. The woman marveled at her stillness. Usually children were fidgety, flighty and the chatter was endless.

"Here you go," A bowl of steaming stew sat in front of her. The girl stared at it. The woman turned around and ladled herself a bowl, humming cheerfully.

* * *

The big bird came down, gracefully, slowly, eerily, and then it revealed itself to be Pan's shadow. Harriet thought it was so pretty – look at its lovely black colour, the light of its eyes, the graceful way it moves. It should be in a play!

"Yes, you must definitely be Pan's to be so beautiful," She said out loud.

The upside to the whole thing was that he didn't really have distinguishable facial features, which meant Harriet could look at him all day because she wasn't uncomfortable. Harriet thought it would never happen – finding someone she could stare at all day without feeling nauseous. Dreams do come true!

"Can you be my friend?" She said to the flying creature.

The shadow that hovered in the air at first looked confused upon her statement, then at her question tilted its head.

"Don't have friends," said the creature.

They were so alike!

"Oh, me neither," Harriet stood quickly, hoping not to scare it away with her sudden movement. "But we can find friends in one another,"

The creature hovered, moving slightly to the left of her, and she followed it.

"Most are afraid of me," The creature's pretty voice then dipped lowly, like it was sad or bitter. "Best keep it that way,"

Harriet was disappointed inside.

"Oh okay. Well if you change your mind, I live in this part of the forest now."

The shadow looked to the night sky, then nodded, its arms moving like it was in water keeping itself afloat.

"You're really pretty," She blurted. "I don't see why anyone's afraid of you. They shouldn't be."

The creature kept looking at her as Harriet looked to her feet, deciding the next step.

"If you can drink tea, you're welcome to come and have some anytime," She turned and walked on her new, strange path to her new, strange home, ducking out the way of a branch and pushing a fern out of the way.

* * *

The sun was setting. Harriet was getting ready in front of the fire when she sensed another presence. She turned around and saw the shadow descending.

"Hi, shadow!" She said cheerfully. "You're just in time, I'm about to start my celebration for my bountifulness. I'm going to say thank you for everything that I have," She said, and the shadow hovered near the ground, arms moving like he was floating in water."You're welcome to join in if you want. You can do it however you like. I'm just going to sit and say thanks,"

She was dressed in a dress, and had a pretty wreath on her head, and there were candles lit around the fire.

"You can even dance around it, if you like," She said, mentioning the fire then looking at the shadow again. "I don't mind. You can say thanks however you like. Would you like to join in?"

The shadow hovered a little to the left as it thought.

"No, thanks."

"Alright." She said, turning away to put the candle in her hand down. Above the fire pit to the right was a large tree, where there was a partially finished tree house.

Harriet suddenly gasped excitedly with an idea.

"I know! Let's invite Pan!" She whirled around to the shadow. "Do you think he would enjoy something like this?"

"I would not know," replied the shadow neutrally. "His Lost Boys dance around the fire almost nightly. But Pan never joins in."

"Oh that's a shame." Harriet said sadly. It was true, too. "And he always tells me to join in the games. Sad." She turned around, making sure her wreath was straight upon her head and facing the fire with a straight back.

She suddenly whirled around.

"Pan!" Yaay Pots and Pans was here!

"Pan, I was just thinking of inviting you!" She said as his eyes swept across the environment. "Would you like to join the Shadow and I to say thank you for our bountifulness?"

Pan's eyes pinned to Shadow, and the two stared at one another. Shadow's eyes narrowed and then he flew away fast like the twinkling of a star.

Harriet looked at her Pots and Pans. Peter Pan. Her imagination saw him like a painting by Van Gogh. Starry nights, bright sunflowers. Also,

A light, beautiful meadow.

A beautiful storm on the dark sea.

He was utterly beautiful to her.

Which is why he was hers.

_Look at you, Harriet, conversing with darkness, and it conversing with you, like… like its nothing. _said Pan to himself.

"So what do you say, Pan?" She asked.

He walked over to her, eyes sizzling, but they softened. He took her hands, to which she noticed and looked down at. That was odd of him to do.

"You can't hang around Shadow, stay away from him,"

"That beautiful creature? Why?" She said.

"He's got… very important matters, to attend to." He took her hand, playing with the palm of it with his fingers. She looked between him and her hand.

"Well, he came here himself. He can come and talk to me if he wants. We're friends," She said chuffly, although she wasn't too positive about the last fact but she hoped so since he came back to talk to her.

"He can't have friends," Pan said. He's dangerous, he wanted to say.

"Why not? Everyone's allowed to have friends. Do you just hog all your Lost Boys to yourself and not let him have any? No wonder he's lonely." She said, feeling jealous and wanting to defend her friend.

Pan stared at her for a long time, before he just decided to let it drop. She didn't understand it yet.

"Just be careful around him,"

"You're making me angry, Pan." She said in a low voice because of the unsolicited advice. She moved on. "Now, tonight is supposed to be about giving thanks, and I've made it special. Will. You. Join. In?" She said steely, eyes wide. Now she just wanted to get on with the night, she wasn't really angry anymore, she just wanted to move on and this boy here was just standing around loafing. Was he IN or OUT?

Harriet shifted her shoulder as a thought came to her, her voice no longer sounding angry but its usualness.

"We can dance around the fire. Then afterwards, we can say our thanks. If you want." She said, shifting her shoulder.

He stared at her. For a long, long time.

"No?" She guessed, right as he decided.

"No." He decided with a sigh from their last conversation. "I'll be your music."

He pulled out a flute.

"Ew. That flute?"

"Oh don't worry," He laughed. "It's a different flute."

Harriet danced around the fire while Pan played the flute, laughing and giggling joyfully, then she sat serenely by the fire and inwardly sat in the feeling of being thankful for everything she had. She had a healthful body, arms, legs, lungs, liver, and all her body parts working well, she had a roof over her head, she had air to breathe, she had food to eat, water to drink, and if she didn't stop she would never run out of things to be thankful for and then it would be morning already and she wouldn't get any sleep.

She looked at Pan who stopped playing music.

"The ceremony's over." She said, standing up and taking off her wreath. She went to the thick trunk of her tree and hung the wreath on a stump, making sure to place it lightly. She turned to look at Pan over her shoulder, thinking she should change back into her clothes that fully covered her because the night was getting cold.

"I'm going to get changed, just stay here," She called out, walking behind her tree. Her tree house wasn't built enough yet to hide her from view if she changed.

Once she was changed, she walked out to the campsite, blowing out the candles and letting the fire keep going. The candles were special, for times that she needed to make something special.

She sat down, her hands holding the ankles of her loosely crossed legs.

_I didn't even give him some tea, _She thought, about the Shadow. _Oh well, I can give him some next time._

"I'm glad for so many things," She said. "One of them, meeting you."

He smiled softly.

"Come here,"

She looked at him.

"Why?" She asked after seeing him pat the spot next to him.

"Just because," He said, smiling her way.

"That's not a very good reason," She said, her head turning away.

"I just want you to sit next to me," He said, more insistently.

"But we're not eating together," She said calmly, remembering the requirement he'd given her before - they sat together, in view of each other, when they ate together. But then she thought this was a different requirement in a different situation that would make him happy, and she shrugged and crawled over, plopping down next to him.

* * *

"Here you go," A bowl of steaming stew sat in front of her. The girl stared at it. The woman turned around and ladled herself a bowl, humming cheerfully.

The girl looked up.

"Stop humming."

The humming abruptly halted, the woman looking startled.

"I'm sorry, dear?" She said kindly.

"Stop humming." repeated the girl, even though she saw no reason why the woman hadn't heard her.

The woman chucked nervously and awkwardly, putting down her ladle and coming to the table to sit.

"Why's that, dear?"

The girl watched her sit down. The sound interfered with how the steam rose in the woman's face when she had bent over the metal pot. But she felt no reason to talk about it.

The girl looked down at her food, not touching it, as the woman began to sip at her own.

"Use the spoon, dear." The woman said helpfully.

The girl did so, only staring at her bowl. "I've never had watery food before."

The woman laughed and the girl seemed startled by the sound like she hadn't expected it, looking up at her but not making eye contact with her, returning her eyes to her bowl and experimentally lifted a spoonful to examine it, before putting it in her mouth.

The woman looked for her reaction to her wonderful food, and the girl looked up at the woman when she saw she was looking at her.

There was silence.

"So, um, dear, where are your parents?"

"I don't know." She said, the word 'parent' one she'd never heard before. So she said 'I don't know' … what that word means.

So sad, the woman thought. The woman had a big heart and she wanted to take in all the strays she could, if only she had the space and the money.

"Do you have a name, dear?"

The girl blinked, and a flash of irritation came across her face because she was being interrupted a second time while she was trying to eat.

"No."

The woman smiled in amusement. Children. She dug into her food.

* * *

Alright, that's the chapter!


	25. Interlude 2

Okay, going to explain a few things.

A lot of people commented on this, this may be a spoiler for some of season 2 for those who haven't seen it, but in the last few episodes it was revealed the shadow had been on the island before Pan, which led me to believe that they were separate. After all, the shadow had only been referred to as 'PAN's' only by other people, 'its pan's shadow', 'pan's shadow took me here' - Neal, 'pan's shadow brings them to Neverland' (the children). etc. So I was lead to believe that they were separate, and not at all entwined, but misunderstood to be that way, like a ruse, if intentional, or just plain misunderstanding but they put it in there to connect to Pan from Disney to the storyline. I was lead to believe that the Shadow was part of Neverland - not a part of Pan.

In this chapter, there will be a scene that has been placed in one of the last few chapters, it will look familiar, but there is a part added to it that was left out before. It's important.

* * *

He was wondering through the forest happily, just going about his day.

Conk.

A hiss.

"_Ow,"_ He heard from a female voice. He quickly stood up and tried to help her, but the girl he bumped into was already getting up.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there-"

He stopped when the girl's face moved towards him and he saw the most strikingly beautiful scowl on the most strikingly beautiful face he'd ever seen.

She barely looked at him, holding her head from pain where they'd connected.

"You should leave," She said darkly.

"What?"

She shoved him, fingers clutching his grey cloak and pushing him, and he fell back.

"Just _go. _It's not safe here," She said, everything about her screaming power, her voice, her mannerisms, her clutch, and he was completely startled and imprinted. Before he could say or do anything else, before he'd computed the event at all, she had turned and walked back into the forest, where he assumed she came from.

* * *

Harriet spied the boy she'd originally taught to read sitting on a log at camp reading her book.

_-read a book, read a book, read a mother fuckin' book –_

She hopped over the log.

"Hi." She said carefreely, staring at her book. He looked startled.

"I'm sorry, it was just lying around-"

"_Lying around? _I don't ever leave my books just _lying around_!" She leaned away, giving him eye contact.

"I mean, it was on the log."

"Oh, I left it there." She looked at her book.

"…Yeah."

"Hm."

Silence.

"How do you like it?" Harriet said, leaning over to inspect the page he was on to see if she could remember it.

"Oh, uh, it was nice, I was just getting to the part-"

"_What_?" She took the book from his hold. "I don't remember _this_!" She exclaimed as she read, her nose in the book. After she skimmed the page a bit, looking to the right page next, she then relaxed because she realized she _did _remember it. Phew.

"Kay, here," She went to pass it back, but instead of the boy there, it was Pan.

She jumped in her skin and staggered back from utter surprise. _Where _did he come from? She _hated_ surprises!

Pan stood too and he seemed to be giving her _the stare. _The one where he looked at her for a few seconds longer than he usually did. Hm. What did that mean again?

"I thought I told you to stay away from my boys, Harriet."

That didn't even make sense. Oh wait, what?

"Oh yeah. That was a million years ago, Pan. Oh, and I was just seeing how his reading was coming along."

"Mmhm."

She thought he was agreeing with her, and saw no more point in this conversation, and was about to walk away when he caught her arm.

"Harriet." He said.

"Yes?"

"I mean it."

"Mean what?" She said, truly oblivious.

He sighed.

* * *

"He gave me this _riddle, _Pan," said Harriet, pacing back and forth, the worry slightly showing on her face, but enough in compared to how she usually looked to be leaking emotion.

"He isn't giving you riddles," Pan said, standing up from leaning on a tree, and delivering the statement when he appeared in front of her right as he turned.

Only Pan gave her riddles back. Not the Lost Boys.

_N- No, he _**_is,_**_ Pan, _Harriet wanted to say, turning just slightly, because she obviously just said he _had_. But then she realized how her words sounded and she chuckled breathfully.

"Oh, no, Pan, I didn't mean an _actual _riddle. I meant he said something I cannot figure out. But it feels like a riddle."

Despite the reassurance, his eyes followed her as she paced past him.

"For the life of me, I can't figure it out-"

Pan closed his eyes. This was torture.

"What did he say?"

When he turned around her hands were on her face, and she was wearing the demeanor that only _he _had been able to get out of her. Pan felt rage climb into his heart and heat expand in his body.

"He said, 'the way he looks at you', like I'm supposed to know what that means," Harriet turned around without thinking, which increased Pan's ire and he appeared in front of her in the blink of an eye, taking hold of her wrists and pulling them away from her face.

Despite his uncharacteristic outburst, Harriet stood still where she was, just looking at him dead in the face even though he could see it was questioning. He could tell she wouldn't move back, even though he was standing so close to her. He thought her surety was so sexy. It was what pulled him to her. Her confidence.

He opened his mouth.

* * *

"Mermaids are ugly," She said. "Their voices, their faces, their tails. It's pure ugliness." She said, shifting her shoulder absentmindedly. "They're hailed and praised for their beauty, but, when I saw them, although they were alluring, they were nothing compared to you, Pan," When she had seen him that night, with the light of the fire cast on his face. He was a thousand times more… something, beautiful, maybe, in some way, to her, that she stayed. The mermaids tried to lure her out to sea, but she'd felt completely unaffected.

But when Pan asked her to stay, to 'be their mother', it was like a mysterious force was luring her forward to stay.

* * *

She watched him. Tracked him. He'd been on the island a day. He did not sense her. If he looked to the forest in the night, she was not there.

* * *

Finally, she came out of the woods. Broad daylight.

* * *

Chapter 25.


	26. Interlude 3

She came across a village, and watched as the on-goings happened. Carts being pulled by donkeys, women walking with pales of water, men with pitchforks or carrying heavy loads. Children running. Looking at the heights of the people, it did not occur to her that the shorter people grew into the taller ones. She stood, and watched from far away. The noise carried on the winds to her ears.

* * *

Wandering through the forest. Everything is green, except the sky and the ground. A gingerbread house sat with a smoking chimney in the woods. The girl stopped, staring at the swirls on the soft brown house.

"Oh, dear, are you lost?" said a woman in her middle ages, a large woman. The figure looked away from the swirls and at up the woman who looked concerned down at the young girl.

"I'm lost, yes." said the girl, far more maturely for her age than most. She was lying, yet she was not. The woman blinked.

The girl was dirty and didn't have very good clothes. She wondered where her parents were.

"Well come inside dear, you'll catch a cold outside."

* * *

"Were you going to tell me that you were leaving?" Pan said, looking up into the tree, a fist on his hip.

Harriet looked down at his sudden appearance.

"Technically – I was free to leave." She jumped on a vine and zipped to the bottom. "Technically – I was never staying in the first place. I never said so."

He stared at her. Who knew why. Maybe it was because she got new clothes.

"Look at this," She said, dangling the vine to her treehouse. "Isn't it neat?!"

"It's good."

"Yaay! You think so!" She clapped her hands, and then ran over, crushing him in a hug. His arms encircled her almost immediately, crushing her to him, his hand on the back of her head, arm down her back and the other wrapped around her back.

She pulled away, her mind zooming to the words they just shared.

"Thank you, by the way. I will ever be eternally grateful that you saved me from drowning." Harriet reflected on those words and realized she was truly grateful in her heart.

He smiled, and she pulled away.

"What's the matter?" She asked, devoid of emotion inside of her. She wanted to know what was wrong, but, she was not emotionally attached to it.

"Nothing." He said. He walked past her a few steps, inspecting her progress of a tree house. She followed behind him. "How long have you been working on this?"

Harriet looked up at her work. Did he mean in total, or recently? In her dreams she'd been building this, making this, and that had been two weeks, but while she was awake in THIS Neverland, she'd been building for only four days. There was a lot of work, it tired her out, and she hated being sweaty.

"About four days. But there's a lot of work. And a lot of things I need help on. There's the backdoor, it doesn't screw on properly, and there's this tree branch here I'm going to have to cut off because it goes straight into where the wall is supposed to be, but I don't have the equipment to cut it, oh, and I've been working on it for four days and I only just realized that I don't have enough wood to make the entire house." She looked at him with her hand on her chin. "Do you think the trees will mind if we chop more down?"

He smiled in amusement, his bad mood over.

"Let me get in here, stand back,"

As he raised his arms, she moved back.

* * *

In the end, it looked nothing like she expected.

Harriet dropped the hammer in her hands. Thankfully it missed her foot.

"Pan – WOW!" She jumped forward, arms spread out wide, looking to the amazing and massive pile of tools all in one pile on the ground. "There must be everything in there!" She shouted excitedly, running forward to inspect it.

Pan chuckled shortly.

"Everything needed to build a house."

Harriet looked over everything, backing out and away from it, then she gripped Pan to her. He chuckled in her ear and she was so mutely excited at having her own tools, all the tools she needed, to build her own house that she overlooked the noise in her ear chamber and the spazming bouncing of his chest. "Best gift ever."

* * *

They were talking, she was telling him about the house. He looked like he wasn't listening, just looking at the treehouse.

She felt a touch on her hand and looked down at it, her voice pausing. His hand was on hers, his fingers sliding down her palm.

He kept trying to touch her.

Did he want to be her boyfriend? That's what boyfriends did, touch their girlfriends' hands.

"Do you want to be my boyfriend?"

Pan looked visibly startled upon hearing those words. Boyfriend?

Harriet observed him. Pupil dilation, breathing rate acceleration and redness to the cheeks.

"I mean, is that what you want?" She asked, blinking, still. She looked down when there was no answer, to their hands. "No one touches my hand like this. And usually when I leave, people don't come after me." Whenever she left places, they didn't come after her or try to keep contact.

She was trying to determine what he wanted by this whole conversation.

Pan seemed to regain his composure and he took her hand, pulling it up to his cheek.

"But I did."

What a way to point out the obvious, she thought.

She blinked.

"Yeah."

After a beat, she pulled her arm away. He didn't answer her question. Ah well, there was always more stew in the pot, or whatever the saying was – the one that meant she could always try another day. Pot? Pots and Pans!

Harriet suddenly grinned shyly and girlishly and turned away from him, her hand on her warm cheek. She walked over to her makeshift campsite. She crouched with her knees closed in front of a barely scorched - fairly new - pit and made a fire.

"Why didn't you ask me to build you all of this?" Pan said from behind her. Harriet stood up quickly in supreme surprise, pushing some hair out of her face breathlessly from the sudden rise in height.

"Because I could! I could do it myself!" She said happily.

Pan's brows narrowed.

"You could have just asked me,"

At his insistence, she said with a shake of her head,

"Why _would_ I have asked you?"

"Because this is my island, because I control everything here,"

"You don't control me," She pointed out. His fists clenched at his sides, he was slowly growing frustrated.

"No. I don't control you."

She smiled.

"Not anymore." He continued.

Not since he relinquished his hold on Harriet – for her autonomy, for her to be happy.

"I just want you to be pleased." He gritted out through his teeth. "I just want to please you."

Harriet jumped.

"Oh! Really? Why didn't you just say so earlier?" She said, walking over to him with a lightness of a child. Yay, he was being direct and explicit in his statements! The best way for her to understand what was going on inside of him! Best snap up this opportunity right now!

Pan's fists really _did _clench, but then they unclenched in confusion.

"Why –" He began to repeat her question, then he stopped. "This whole time, I've been trying to please you."

"Oh, I never noticed." She said offhandedly, coming to stand in front of him. She said something before he can began explaining frustratedly, "If you had said so earlier, I would have given you a list of tasks that please me. Then you could be happy. And I'd be happy," She added at the end.

"This whole time – the reason I gave you those gifts, the reason why I watched over you, brought –" brought you to Neverland, he was going to say.

When he stopped in the middle of his sentence, Harriet tilted her head. Her hands were upside down on the back of her waist as she listened. How odd. Who knew what made people stop in the middle of their sentences. It's like they were a robot that an unseen someone changed the command of in the middle of their performing a task – that's how abrupt it looked to Harriet.

Harriet turned, her hair swishing.

"Like at the fire, when you said, is there anything you want? I said I wanted heat, because at the time, I wanted heat," She picked up a bucket filled with tools and moved it to another location not too far away. She looked at him. "So, do you want some tea?" She smiled a girlish smile. "I can give that to you now. Before, I couldn't, because I didn't have anything," She turned around and went to the fire, but on her way there she heard Pan say,

"You had me,"

Harriet thought that was obvious, because she did. She had Pan, and the Lost Boys.

"Yes, you're mine." She said lightly, speaking only truth, picking up a stick and poking her fire with it. She suddenly looked to him. "It would please me greatly if you came and sit," She patted the spot not too far off from her, but Pan appeared on her other side and sat directly next to her, staring into the fire, their knees touching.

Harriet wanted to correct him on his choice of spot, but thought that would be too pushy, which people told her they didn't like when she insisted – they called her rigid, which is apparently bad and undesirable - and didn't.

Pan broke a twig in his hands. Would she want to be his girlfriend? What _was _a girlfriend? He hated how important this confusing thing was to him. Nothing was confusing before. Before Harriet. And yet, nothing had been clearer, since Harriet.

"Tea," She chimed, pouring it into white little cups that he'd never seen the style of before and he picked it up and sipped it.

"I _still_ have you, I hope," Harriet said with wide, imploring eyes, hoping that she hadn't lost him, feeling fear. That would be the pits. (saying for the pits of hell).

He sighed. If only she knew.

"Always,"

* * *

For those who can't tell, this was all the past.


	27. S2E1

She watched him. Tracked him. He'd been on the island a day. He did not sense her. If he looked to the forest in the night, she was not there.

* * *

He knew she was there. Not hard to discern the stare he felt. It wasn't Pan – Pan would have come out already. He went on like normal – finding shelter, salvaging what little food and water – rum – he had. Pretended she wasn't there.

* * *

She slips up, finally. He finds the tracks leading from his makeshift camp.

* * *

He takes the bait. Thinks she's slipped up. Finds the "accidental" tracks.

* * *

He arrives at the clearing where the sun can clearly reach the dirt flooring - rare in the jungle. It's empty. He sighs.

* * *

Black hair, long black trench coat, his weight, size, rum flask on his belt loop. He's in the clearing.

Finally, she comes out of the jungle. Broad daylight above.

* * *

"Hello." Polite.

The pirate turned around.

"Ah, you finally decide to come out and play,"

The girl stared at him with unusual intensity and focus.

The pirate opened his hand and hook with a charming smile.

"What can I do for you?"

"You're telling me you don't remember me?" The girl took two even steps into the clearing they were in.

"I'm afraid I don't remember you, lass," said the pirate with a smile and open moving hands… hand. "But if I did, I'm sure I'd remember a face like y-" In a second she shot a dagger into the ground next to her and a rope snared Hook's ankle and the pirate fell head over feet into the air as the rope secured him hanging upside down from a tree. He dangled there, swaying a little from the rope.

"You don't have a bad heart," She said, slowly bending to pick up her knife that stuck out of the ground, having previously cut her trap. Her hand wrapped around it and she pulled it out smoothly from the earth. "You lie badly – even if I didn't know the truth, I'd be able to see right through you." She'd crouched in front of the dark haired pirate. "It's a wonder you're a pirate at all. I've seen bad hearts, and yours isn't close… It's the reason why I chose you, chose to board your ship. …It's a wonder why you're working with someone like Pan." She smiled, throwing an ear to ear grin at him, mind throwing around possibilities for his reason to be this way. His eyes zoomed all over her face.

"Now, lass,"

Her hand reached into his thick hair at the back of his head, pulling his head up towards her a bit. The knife gleamed in his face.

"Now, I'm sure you capture many women, with a face like this…" She tilted her head in thought. "must be hard to keep up your reputation if you don't have it anymore, right?" This time she smiled a real grin. The knife went to his sideburns, ready to carve like she was peeling an apple -

"No, no, no, no, NO!" He yelled, squirming.

"I'm not hearing a reason," She said daintily. The knife went back, about to touch his skin –

"I do his dirty work! I do Pan's dirty work!" She pulled her knife away irritatedly like she wanted to cut his skin, his patheticness and interruption of her thoughts making her irritated, then looking down at him disinterestedly.

"Be more specific."

"Well," said Hook, a little unsuredly. "He gives me a job and I do it,"

"And your job was to lure me aboard, was it?" She asked emotionlessly. Hook's eyes darted to the knife then back to her face.

"Yes." He said. "But I don't know much else."

"Hmm…" She said interestedly, although she didn't look interested, putting his head down and Hook dangled freely on his own, swaying just an inch each way, his breathing ragged. "Tell me more." She said calmly, knife still in her hand.

"I don't know any more…" He begged. He got a hit to the back of his head. His eyes screwed shut and he looked up at her wearily.

"I can do this all day. I've seen many different ways to interrogate a man." She said calmly. "You _do _know more. Or you'll die."

She picked up his head again but this time he shouted,

"I don't know, okay!" His entire face was red, his black stubble contrasting it, and Harriet let go of his hair. His black eyes were on her in fear. He was scared of her.

She put her knife away.

She stood and removed her arms from being visible and into her cloak where it was shrouded, and she turned and walked to a fire that roared to life as she did so. She sat in front of it, back to him.

Killian dangled there, looking at his situation.

"Are you gonna let me go? I told you what I know,"

He got no answer, and he sighed. He'd never repair his ship and find his crew like this.


	28. S2E2

Hook was still dangling upside down. He was trying to work out if – _why _she was angry.

"Did I take you from your home?" He guessed in false niceness, arms dangling.

"Never had a home," She said, lowering into a closed-kneed crouch, throwing a log into the fire. "Don't have much use for the word," She said, considering another log, before throwing it in too. The fire crackled and spat. She put up a hand to shield herself then stood, dusting her hands of dirt.

"Then what is it then?" He said, all pretense aside and annoyance apparent. "All the blood is going to my head and it's making me rather itchy,"

Her eyes snapped to him, like she couldn't believe him. _That _was the beginning of his problems?

"Deal with it," She said slowly.

* * *

Yes, she'd doused herself in oil. It didn't matter too much to her.

If she needed to light herself on fire to achieve her ends, she would light herself on fire to achieve her ends.

It was finally time to take on a new name. She had been Harriet for so long. She had chosen Harriet what felt like forever ago. She'd lived and walked 'Harriet'. Blending and mimicking and doing her best to be normal, while on the inside never feeling alive, except in her moments of struggle. When life challenged her, in the depths of despair she'd visited a few times, she'd never felt so alive. She _had _to survive – her will to live flared up. If she was going to take her own life, she would have done it in the numerous opportunities she had in her pits of despair, anger, sorrow, and loss. It was time to take on a new name.

* * *

She hadn't moved. For three days.

Or what felt like three days, all Hook knew was that he went to sleep and woke up, and there had been day and night thrice.

She'd literally dropped to the floor, and just didn't move.

Hook sighed exasperatedly. Nothing he did to distract her, get her attention worked. He'd cajoled, teased, insulted, criticized, patronized, spat, and just plain yelled at her. She didn't move. She just stared into the fire pit – only ever moving to stir the fire awake.

He eventually gave up and just went silent.

His body had become used to being upside down now.

He was starving. He needed food.

He saw no way out of his situation. There were no rocks on the ground, even though he couldn't reach the ground, and there were no twigs or branches that were within reach. She was too close and aware for him to just reach up and try to untie himself. He was stuck.

* * *

The shadow drifted lower towards Pan, who stood in a clearing waiting for him.

"Hook is on the island," Pan was looking out into the forest. The shadow then added slowly, "Harriet is pursuing him,"

Pan sighed.

"Hm."

* * *

Hook knew how to track. Be aware of where he was geographically. He was originally a sailor, trained in the British Navy back in the day, before he became a pirate. As he traveled inland on Neverland, the traps he'd managed to avoid were half-set, half-made, not planted yet. He should have realized sooner; he'd walked into someone's territory – someone just moving in.

* * *

Finally, she moved.

She got up, rustling her clothes into a more comfortable position. She picked up a sack and walked with absolute focus into the forest, her footsteps crunching on top of the dirt, not sparing a glance his way.

* * *

A twig snapped and Tinker Bell whirled around with a noise of fright.

She gave her friend warning eyes as Harriet ducked under a branch, walking into the clearing outside her hut.

"_Don't _do that to me!" Harriet just looked at her, and felt nothing. She always deliberately stepped on a twig so the girl would know she was coming. If she didn't appreciate that, then whatever.

"Going somewhere?" She asked coolly after she surveyed Tinker Bell's hunting gear and that she was packing.

"I was just about to go and find you, Hook – Hook is on the island."

Harriet blinked.

"No."

"Yes!"

"I thought I told you to stay where you were when I left?"

Tinker Bell's face crossed into an expression of childish incredulity and her right nostril rose up in outright, unserious defiance and dislike of the idea as she looked at Harriet.

"You actually expected me to do that?"

Harriet would have sighed, but her jaw was tight. Why _wouldn't _she expect that of Tinker Bell? The last time Harriet told her to stay away, there was a huge fire in the forest, of her own doing, that would have cost Tinker Bell her life. The fact that she made Tinker Bell stay away _saved _her life. Did that just evaporate from her brain? Before she decided to feel annoyance or worry, in a split second Harriet said,

"Who is he to you?"

"Harriet –" Tinker Bell said impatiently, then. "He's an ally! He used to work for Pan, but then he left –"

Harriet stepped forward, hand on her belt.

"You have emotional attachment to this man." She said, hoping to point out the other girl's weakness for her to see.

Tinker Bell's breath caught audibly and visibly.

"No! He's a friend!"

"A second ago he was an ally. Now he's a friend." The two were very different, emotionally.

"Well he's _only _that!"

"I never said a romantic connection. Just an emotional one." She said, trying to understand Tinker Bell's intentions and discern her real thoughts and feelings from the crap she was saying – what most people threw around.

"Well good, because it's not like that." Tinker Bell gave her a mild glare. As always, Harriet's thoughts were unfathomable. Tinker Bell didn't know what she was thinking.

How did Harriet always manage to embarrass her with her directness? Tinker Bell wondered.

"He's not who you think he is. Look – I'm going to find him." Tinker Bell yanked up her drawstring bag, the other one of hers missing. She put it hurriedly on her back. "I saw his ship wrecked on the cove."

"Oh dear. Shipwrecked."

Despite Harriet's cool voice, Tinker Bell looked solidly at her friend once she was geared up.

"I'm going to find him before Pan does."

* * *

She came back after a time, with some rope.

She looked at him. She absently thought how amazing it was how many times people will fall into the simplest of traps. The same trap that she'd used on Felix. If you found something that one person fell into, millions of people would fall into it. If you found a flaw in human psychology, everyone fell for it. It's human nature. She worried, though, that his weight would be a factor she'd have to compromise on; he was heavier than Felix.

"Hook." She said, stating it.

"What?"

"Hook. It's funny to look at. So is 'twat'." She stated it so seriously Hook thought it mustn't be a joke, but it wasn't funny in the first place…?

Harriet smiled a strange grin in the corner of her mouth, then turned away and walked to her camp.

…What?

"Why are you doing this?" He said from his dangling position not too far off, deciding now that she was talking to him he needed to ask her.

"I am cooking. What does it look like?"

"No, why are you doing _this," _He gestured loosely. "Why bring me all the way here only to tie me up and leave me starved and bored?"

"I needed someone to test out the traps," She grinned in one corner of her mouth at him.

He said as she set a stump of wood firmly into the soil near her fire pit and sat around it, arms moving like she was working,

"Those traps were half-loaded, and obvious – out in the open. No way would I have fallen into that," Her back was to him and he couldn't see, even though he tried.

_Swinging, swinging for the apple on the tree above, but not quite getting it. He bent his body to try and cut the rope, but his hook wouldn't cut it and the rope was too far away for him to climb and untie with only one hand, even if he wasn't starved and the blood in his head._

_He stopped after a while, not sure when she would come back, just in case she would make his life worse._

Hook swallowed, spit going to an empty stomach and his gut growled. He let out a breath uncomfortably.

"Are you going to feed me?" He asked sarcastically, patronizingly and tiredly. "It's been three days. I can't take much more of this."

"Hm. You're right." She said, like she had just thought of that although she hadn't, she had thought of it earlier, and paused her clacking and building to reach over into her sack and rummaged through it for effect. Hook watched her, mouth watering.

* * *

"I've been interrogated before and I never said anything."

Well he just said something, she thought. Maybe that was nothing new, about him working for Pan.

"We'll see."

* * *

She knelt down and took his wrist, unscrewing his wooden hook as Killian was powerless to stop it.

"No!" She stood up, twirling the brown hook in one hand, turning from him.

"Why did you choose a hook?" She said, voicing her inner thoughts. "Why not a hand?" She walked two large, but easy for her legs, steps closer to the fire. "In this one world, they have mechanical hands. It can move and grip things."

"No!" Killian shouted as the hook went into the fire.

She sat down, and from the angle he could see with her cloak baggily covering the outline of her form it looked like her legs crumpled, with the speed that she did it, like breaking matchsticks to the floor in a sitting position.

"Next time, don't choose something flammable, _Killian. _And yes, I don't care for your name_. _Don't give it to me next time."

* * *

His ankle hurt from his weight and the tightness of the rope. It felt like it cut off his circulation.

"You know what comes first, right? Leaving me here, like this," He said, trying to reason her out of what she was doing. If people really knew the effects of what they were doing, they typically stopped. Or were scared out of doing it. It was all in the mind. Empathy was everything.

She cut him off.

"Tiredness, weakness, nausea, pain, I know." He was silent.

* * *

She tossed him an apple over her shoulder, her way of being cruel. He caught it deftly, although his vision swam a little. He shoved the thing in his mouth like stuffing a pig and devoured it, juice dripping down his face to the ground and in his hair and suddenly the apple was gone too soon and his stomach rumbled. She chuckled breathily from where she was, the reason unknown to him, her arms never quitting moving whatever she was making.

Her way of being cruel – giving an apple to an empty stomach. Go out and pick apples from the tree so she had a whole bagful in case he thought to see if there had been anything else she could have given him. Cook apples so he'd have a scent to arose his stomach, even though it was over the top since he didn't need that – his stomach was empty as it was.

"I think I'm gonna be sick…" Hook said casually, in pain, his arms just dangling now as he swayed back and forth after his sudden ferocious devouring of the fruit. He would have normally cajoled or charmed her into finding him something else, some bread maybe, but he had gone three days without food, he was hanging upside down, feeling sick, and was disoriented. He was still grieving, as well. Milah.

She said nothing, her movements steady and consistent, still normal and fluid.

Wow, Hook thought. Really no concern whatsoever.

Hook himself wasn't fazed, he'd been in worse situations, in the filthiest pubs vomiting his liquor, or worse, out _behind _those filthiest pubs, vomiting his liquor. But, he thought with half a mind, those situations had been over quickly. Alright - fine, he hadn't quite been in worse situations. As a pirate he was used to getting into tricky situations and squeezing himself out of them - that's how a pirate stayed afloat after all. But this one, he looked at the sedentary girl... A pirate always had a trick up his sleeve.

* * *

This chapter isn't meant to offend anyone with Hook's making light of the situation, or anything else.


	29. S2E3

The apple conked off his head.

He 'ow'ed deadpanly, unable to move or wiggle thanks to the rope tying his arms to his torso and his feet together.

"I only need a little answer. Only a little one." She said in a soft, sweet voice. Another apple was in her hands, holding it out promisingly. "Then you can have some food." Four days.

No answer. Conk.

"Ow." Hook sighed through his nose. "I've told you all I know. I don't know where it is. Ow!" Another apple hit his head.

A juicy crunch sounded from Harriet and Hook looked over enviously. She was sitting cross legged, biting into an apple.

"Now look at what you're making me do. You're wasting all the apples."

Hook stared at the girl, all sinister impressions of her forgotten. But he was weary.

* * *

Tinker Bell was annoying Harriet. She was running around Neverland, looking for Hook. Harriet knew she would get close soon, so she left things to deliberately confuse Tinker Bell or send her another way. She found Hook's makeshift camp, which made Harriet annoyed at how quickly she did so, Tinker Bell was really good at tracking. Maybe a certain someone taught her. So Harriet took Hook's cloak that was in his camp and moved it to another area, making it look like Hook moved and Tinker Bell had just missed him. But the charades would have to stop soon.

* * *

Harriet was looping rope together when Hook cleared his throat.

"Er, lass," He looked unsure, uncomfortable. "I never got your name."

"Sarah. But you don't care either way." And neither did she.

"No, I – " Hook gushed, as if ashamed and pitying himself. "I guess not. Pretty name."

She put down her work, her legs out in front of her, looking over at him with a weirded out face.

Hook stared at her in the eyes intensely.

"I just… I'm just saying. Beautiful."

She heaved around until she sat with her back to him, and that was the end of the conversation.

_He's weirder than Pan. _She thought to herself.

* * *

"Look, I know nothing more as to why he asked me to bring you here. I really don't." At her look, he said. "_And _the other thing. I don't know. I just, don't, know. Can you _please_ put me down, Sarah?" Hook pleaded in a soft hearted voice.

Harriet sighed from the fire, her hands holding her crossed feet. She stared into the flames.

"I'm sorry Hook, I lied to you."

He raised his dark brows.

"My name's not Sarah. I'm going to give you my real name." She sighed like she was so ashamed of herself. Then she got an idea. "It's Tinker Bell."

Hook's brows raised more.

"Ah. Pleased to meet your acquaintance," He would have opened his arms out and bowed, but he was a little tied at the moment.

She giggled at his charming debonairness, which made him smile. Inside, she felt nothing. She just knew at that point, she had to giggle if she wanted him to fall for it.

Hook grinned. Ah, there she was. The same cute girl he'd met at the beginning of all of this.

She looked at him with a flattering smile on her face, then to the fire. Inside, it was painful to do this.

"I think…" She stood with a flourish, and smoothed down her cloak at her thighs. She walked over slowly and stood in front of him. For some reason, she made him nervous. What was she doing?

But she merely reached behind him and undid the bounds that kept his hands tied and with a sigh of relief his arms dangled free from their uncomfortable, tense position.

"Oh, thank you, dear," He said, moving in mock discomfort. "And… the rest?" He looked up at her from he just realized was an awkward position for how she violated his personal space. She was looking down at him intensely, and he could do nothing but look up at her. She blinked in thought and stepped back. She couldn't do this, deceive him. "No." She said, turning away and sitting in front of the fire again, herself again.

"Good lord, lass, what do I have to do to get you to untie me? I –"

"You can tell me where it is."

"I have! I've told you _all _that I know! Now can you _please _put me down?!"

Harriet stood up, and stood tall. Hook had observed her few mannerisms that he'd seen over the last few days, and thought that all of a sudden she was very fluid for an indeterminable reason. She stood tall like a tower, with the light of the fire on her in a way that made her cloak look sleek. Her shoulders untensed. Her head was bowed towards the fire. She looked at the rope she had and looped it around her hand, before standing up.

"Don't move too much while I'm gone." She looped the rope over her arm and up to her shoulder before she marched on out of the clearing, some ferns rustling.

Hook sighed to himself.

How was he going to get out of here? His seductive charms seemed to be working, but she also seemed to have something up her sleeve. Hook sighed again, kissing his teeth and gritting them, when he heard something come out of the bushes to his right.

He couldn't believe who he saw.

* * *

It was frustrating. So, _so _frustrating. Harriet had never known tension like she did just then. She was close. So, so _close_! Only to have it taken away.

* * *

"I've never felt quite as angry, as when you got in my way."

Questioning her, not trusting her, doubting her. It was so highly insulting, and also, so irritating that Harriet felt it deeply in her gut.

Tinker Bell stood in the clearing Harriet confronted her in, and Harriet told her everything, her reasons, her thoughts, her observations. All with the intention that Tinker Bell would just _stop it _and _get out of her face _as she did this_._

Harriet abruptly smiled serenely.

"I know it was anger because I could feel it in my gut. It feels like a volcano, about to take over me." She said with a melodic voice, serenely, like she wasn't talking about what she was talking about.

"You talk about me like I'm some kind of object or part of some grand master plan instead of a human being! And what, I'm like," Tinker Bell laughed mirthlessly. "indispensable to your plans?" She mocked.

"Irreplaceable," Harriet corrected from her spot, that had been the wording she had used. Tinker Bell needed to get it right. "To my heart. Irreplaceable to my heart." She needed to get it right.

Tinker Bell's face changed and she stepped back at this information. Harriet sucked a piece of apple from her teeth, looking around, then looking at the ex-fairy, not sure how to read her but this not appearing on her face.

"Are you going to keep your distance now?"

Tinker Bell's jaw opened and closed.

"Y-Yes…" She said softly. Harriet noted the other girl's stammering, as she noticed everything, and turned around to leave with her hands clasped behind her back. "H-Harriet," She heard. "You're important to me too,"

Harriet turned around half way and looked at Tinker Bell, trying to discern why she would tell her something like that. Was she deliberately showing her weakness to her? Was that a sign of trust? Why the _heck _would she need to know at a time like this? It didn't change anything. She had such a bad sense of timing.

"Bye." She turned and stepped with big steps into the bushes, Tinker Bell biting her lip and then sitting by the fire Harriet drew up for her, worrying about Hook and Harriet.

* * *

It was Tinker Bell. The real one.

"Killian!" She whispered. She darted out of the bushes like a bullet into the open, and looked over him.

"Tink," He said with a smile.

"Are you okay?" She approached him cautiously like a skittish bird.

"Yeah, just dandy,"

"I'm gonna get you out of here,"

"How did you find me?"

"I found your hook," Tinker Bell pulled it out of her drawstring satchel, procuring it in front of Hook, whose face fell.

"You need to leave."

"What? I just got here! No, not after I just found you-"

"You need to _go, _Tink."

A footstep.

Tinker Bell and Hook, the former gasping while doing so, turned to see Harriet in the clearing. She was staring at the two. The rope was gone.

Tinker Bell immediately stood in front of Hook's dangling form.

"I can't let you do this to him." Tinker Bell said, about to go on about protecting her friend. "Why are you torturing him?"

"I'm not torturing him," said Harriet innocently.

"You've tied him up and left him there! Who knows what you've been doing to him!"

Harriet looked between Hook, just dangling there and Tinker Bell, who stood there with her arm out at Hook as if to protect him from her.

She looked at Tinker Bell for a long time. She was going to say that she hadn't tied him up and left him there, she had been right there, but she was too gobsmacked by her other words.

"This isn't torture," She shook her head, saying her words with all sincerity. "It isn't."

"Well, hanging someone upside down in a tree for a few days _is _torture, Harriet." Harriet flinched at how she said her name. She stepped back. Oh no, this girl had so much power over her. She'd forgotten. So long she'd been without someone in her heart…

Man.

Keeping eye contact with Tinker Bell, Harriet absently pulled out the dagger from her pocket. Tinker Bell spied the silver gleam – hey, was that _her _dagger? Before she could blink the dagger was suddenly imbedded in the floor and Tinker Bell went up in a net in the tree that Harriet had planted as extra precaution when Hook had been asleep. Tinker Bell screeched, and panicked, trying to get her bearings.

Harriet had acted when she panicked. Oh dear, this was not going to turn out well.

She turned around and dumped a rock onto the ground near her fire pit. She sighed. "You're making this more complicated than it has to be, Tinker Bell. This was a simple operation before you got your face involved."

Tinker Bell finally got used to the net, her fingers in the holes of the net.

"You would really put me up here with him?! I thought this was only about him?!"

Harriet turned her back to them and sat on the ground.

"It isn't about him. It isn't about either of you. But you both have potential that I want. It was just Hook, but Tinker Bell you got involved and set me back several steps. You can stay up there. Now I've trapped a pirate _and_ a birdy, haha, my birdy," She said as she sharpened her – Tinker Bell's – dagger, laughing at the gleam of it, then sharpening it again.


	30. S2E4

Harriet was on board of Hook's ship, searching the contents and crevices of the boat. She looked everywhere, frantically, in every bucket and barrel and room. There was nothing. It wasn't there.

Damnit. She had hoped to just find it. Of course, that was always that hope. _Now, _she was going to have to interact with Hook. Get it out of him.

She marched into the forest to track the man.

When Harriet stepped onto the boat a second time, she was resigned. She looked at the stump of wood in her hand, before tying it to the mast and leaving.

* * *

Harriet was sitting at her fire, working on something with her knife.

"I can't believe you're doing this to me," said Tinker Bell in the silence.

Harriet observed something, her inner feelings, and decided to say it, having no real filter.

"I like to hear your accent, Tinker Bell."

That had the blonde grip the net and start yelling and thrashing and screeching. Hook's face grimaced and he tried to bring his head away. Finally, exhausted, Tinker Bell yelled defeatedly and thrashed one more time before going still, the net swinging neutrally.

Harriet chuckled once it was silent.

"You're so pretty to be around." She said. "You have no idea what I'm making here, do you?" She said deeply, then she got up and turned around, holding it out for them to see. Its end fell to the floor with a thump, unraveling its contents like a bull fighter's cape.

"Do you like it?" She said with a light, cute voice. "Look, see, I've put all our adventures together on here," She pointed to the silver dangling pieces that were hooked onto a net at various places. "See, there's you, and there's me, Tink. And Hook's there too." Her pale finger pointed to a piece on the net, but he couldn't see what it was. The net was sea green, with various other shades of green and blue on there like it was growing on the net like moss did. "See, it was a normal net, one I used to fish here, even and then I painted it this way so it would be eternal."

She looked up at Tink, her face blank but eyes wide to take in the world and voice soft and sweet, childish.

"Do you like it?"

Tinker Bell swallowed, taking in the net, the wreath in her hair, -

"What do you mean do I like it?" Tinker Bell snapped angrily and incredulously.

Harriet smiled happily and shifted in a pleased way.

"You love it?"

"I hate it!"

"…Oh."

Hook's heart inexplicably, and with his resistance and pity, went out to the girl. She obviously adored the other girl and here Tink was lashing at her, like one would.

"I don't care! You kidnap me, and Hook, and hold us here like it's nothing! Do you have no soul?! You're evil! Pure evil!"

Harriet turned the large net back around so she could see it and looked it over. What an irrational thought, hating it. Still, calling her evil was going a bit far.

"So you don't like it?" She asked again in a mature voice. She didn't feel like pointing out that it wasn't kidnapping if someone walked into the trap. Tinker Bell needed to get it right. Turning around and sitting down Harriet picked up her clippers, wire and knife and began working again.

Tinker Bell looked at Harriet's back and regretted her words. This was her friend here. Her heart went out to Harriet with a such a force of emotion it felt like it had leapt out of her chest. She'd probably hurt her. She felt guilty, wrong. Even though she had put her up here in this net, she felt somehow that she was the one that was wrong.

They spent a long time in silence. Hook felt awkward through the whole thing.

* * *

Harriet tried to feed them both slices of yellow fruit, but Tinker Bell refused to eat and bit her fingers, but Hook ate it all, including Tinker Bell's share which Harriet let him have since she wasn't eating any. Harriet then returned to her spot by the fire and ate her own share.

"Harriet," said Tinker Bell softly. "I didn't mean it… I'm sorry."

Harriet didn't know what they were talking about, and quite frankly was startled to her bones that she was interrupted while she was eating by someone she couldn't see, since they were behind her, so much so that her skin tingled unpleasantly.

"It's beautiful, really."

"It's okay." She said, to get the conversation over. And really, it _was, _whatever it was. Otherwise she would have thought of it already. She quickly ate the rest of her food to minimize the chances that she would be interrupted. Then her stomach ached.

She was getting so bored of this.

* * *

All it took was one second. One sigh of breath. One moment of her guard going down – and Hook was free.

He landed to the ground with a thud and took off running on weak legs, stumbling, then righting himself.

Tinker Bell saw Harriet leap up and then both were gone, one running after the other.


	31. S2E5

Harriet stood out on a cliff overlooking a forest, her arms folded. Next to her was a captive Hook and on her left was a kneeling Tinker Bell too.

_Harriet was eating around the fire of her new camp eating when the Shadow descended into the clearing. She straightened her back and smiled. He must be here to talk to her!_

"_Hello, Shadow! Do you want something to eat?" She offered her bowl to him._

_The neutral faced Shadow moved further into the clearing, then to the left, and declined the bowl with the shake of his head._

"_No, thank you."_

"_Wait, __**can **__you eat? Do you even experience matter?" She asked, shielding her eyes from the sun to look up at him. "Do you ever get hungry, even?"_

"_The Shadows on these islands are lost souls. We do not feel hunger, yet we are… empty. If you put out the food we can take the essence, if you give it to us." Harriet looked down at her bowl._

"_That's so cool…"_

_The Shadow did not know what that meant, so he hovered quietly._

_She looked up at him cheerily with a grin._

"_Okay!"_

_From then on, Harriet set out food for them so that the Shadows could come and eat. She set out bowls for them in a neat little line, just two at a time because those were the only bowls she had, then she found that they came quickly, as if called, and passed over the food and the food visibly became weaker, like it had its life drained out of it. Harriet looked down at the bowls after two Shadows had come by and eaten the essence, rather quickly actually, right after she set out the bowls, and the two shadows seemed uplifted, looking at one another and even starting lightly to play. Harriet hummed._

_If they were lonely, and empty, then she knew just the things to cheer them up!_

_She got some more bowls, and felt like she was constantly cooking for the shadows that came to her camp daily. Yet, only more shadows came from the dark forest that they originated from. Harriet groaned at her workload, but wasn't complaining. She was up for a challenge._

_Harriet put out designated blankets and cots for them to sleep in. They didn't actually sleep, but they came to rest, slip in under the blankets, and lie there for an undisclosed amount of time before slipping out and wandering away into the forest or the night sky. Harriet noted with curiosity that they all seemed to know which bed was theirs. Harriet wondered if they dreamed._

_Harriet ran out of cots to put down and just put down blankets or cloth in a rectangular shape to resemble cots and they still did the same thing. She wondered if it reminded them of their beds and their homes when they once had a body. That was nice. Harriet never had a bed. These Shadows were so lucky. She hoped they'd had a bed, anyway._

Her territory, that Harriet had drawn up on the Neverland map with Pan, cut right through the Dark Forest commonly called Dark Hollow by the Lost Boys, where the shadows lived.

* * *

"_Look, lass, I know, I know I took you from your home," Hook said as Harriet advanced on him and he backed away, a hand up to stop her, the other hand just a stump where his hook had screwed into. He'd just escaped and he knew he couldn't run anymore. His chest rose and fell with his breath._

_Did he mean when he brought her to Neverland from the Enchanted Forest?_

"_Oh, no, that's not the reason I'm doing this." She said lightly._

"_Then… why are you doing this then?"_

* * *

"You even took his hook. How cruel." Pan pouted mockingly.

She stared at him.

"You should say only what you mean, Pan." She turned away and walked. "Otherwise, you're wasting my time."

He appeared in front of her, giving her an intense stare.

"Alright, fine." He conceded.

Harriet blinked and before he could say anything, "You should stay out of this. You shouldn't have brought Tinker Bell into the picture with that scheme."

Pan chuckled, walking around her, a stick on his shoulder.

"I wanted to play a game."

"I don't play games."

"Yes, you do." Everybody did.

"Not right now. No games."

Pan chuckled and stopped in front of her.

"But that's the whole reason I brought Hook to this island!"

Harriet sighed, really bored of this.

* * *

"If you can guess where my territory ends and make it across to Pan's side, you're his to take. If you don't make it in twenty four hours, you're mine still."

Hook looked down at the forest beneath them, the wind rustling their hair and clothes.

"But they'll devour me. Take my soul."

She pushed him with her foot and he fell in with a cry and slow motion gesticulating limbs into the darkness.

* * *

On top of the cliff, the wind picked up Harriet and Tinker Bell's clothes and hair and moved it.

Harriet turned around.

"Teach him to enter my territory."


	32. S2E6

"How could you do that to him?"

Harriet turned around and walked close to Tinker Bell, crouching.

"To be honest Tinker Bell, I thought you would enjoy this more."

Tinker Bell's eyes bulged. "Enjoy it?! You're insane, I don't enjoy things like this that you do!"

Harriet looked surprised.

"Oh no, I'm not enjoying it. But I thought if we did it together you would enjoy it." She said serenely.

Tinker Bell felt like screaming. Did Harriet just _miss _how Tinker Bell was tied up and Harriet wasn't?!

"I thought this is what friends do together."

"What?! How did you get that impression?!"

Harriet blinked, still staring at her through the whole exchange.

"It's what the Lost Boys do all the time. They run around and chase each other and tie each other up and capture one another… then they go home and it's all normal."

Tinker Bell was just speechless and shell shocked.

"And after I nearly killed every one of them, they all acted like it was okay… they thought it was all good fun." Once they realized she hadn't really meant it and it was a farce.

Tinker Bell finally found her voice, trying to put a stop to all the horror before her, the horror coming near her. Harriet played with the dirt by her feet with one finger, drawing abstract patterns and circles.

"Well that's under Pan's rule! The Lost Boys are under his jurisdiction!"

Harriet stared quietly at Tinker Bell up from her work. Tinker Bell's eyes zoomed briefly over the contours of her face.

"And since you've walked into my territory, you're under mine. So is Hook."

Tinker Bell really did yell now, just screaming in Harriet's face, letting out all her frustration, anger, turmoil, rage and stress, right into Harriet's face and she didn't care. She finally stopped, just heaving her breath.

"You're being unpleasant."

Harriet was knocked around the face by Tinker Bell's tied hands.

* * *

Harriet was walking somewhere, Tinker Bell being dragged behind her in a net with magic.

"You're evil. Pure evil."

"I'm not evil. Evil is only a matter of perspective. If I were evil I would have given Hook a light. I would have left him in there without a way out. It's like catching fish with a net, you leave a hole so they can be freed."

Tinker Bell had curled in on herself and was watching the path dwindle behind her then be curtained by ferns and tree leaves.

"If he can get out of my territory, he's welcome to be freed by Pan. It's Pan that wants him. We're here."

It was Tinker Bell's hut.

"Here we are, my friend. Your home…" She seemed reluctant about something.

Although Tinker Bell had sworn to herself the vow of silence, she suddenly screamed,

"We're not friends!"

"not friends…" She heard the other girl repeat quietly, like a mutter, more like the words sounded pleasing than actually meaning anything. If it wasn't for the quietness of the clearing, the blonde probably wouldn't have heard it. Tinker Bell's breath hitched when she saw the other girl crouching in front of her seated form in the net.

Harriet looked at the other girl, for the first time considering the consequences in their relationship of what she was doing. She thought Tinker Bell would enjoy this. But it turns out she'd been grossly wrong. And she was kind of disappointed. She'd wanted an activity to do together with Tinker Bell that was fun.

"I'm bad at this." She thought out loud. She stood. "In the future, it should not be left up to me what activities we do." Her fingers undid the rope that held the net together and Tinker Bell sprung out of it like a bird, running into her clearing. She stopped, cautious, weary, in case there had been another trap planted or something else would jump out of her. She looked cautiously and suspiciously at Harriet, who was staring at her blankly like she always did. She didn't look like someone with a master plan.

"Is there anything here that will hurt me?"

"Oh of course not," replied Harriet immediately. "I would never place anything to deliberately hurt you. Everything here is yours, like it always was."

Tinker Bell's glare harshened, not that it got the intended flinching effect on Harriet that she wanted.

"We're not friends anymore."

Tinker Bell waited for the reaction, waited for the denial and the rage and maybe even pain, but Harriet didn't move or blink.

"Didn't you hear what I said?!" exclaimed Tinker Bell.

Harriet blinked eagerly.

"Of course I did. 'We're not friends anymore', twenty one letters, minus the last word is thirteen letters which is my favorite number. 'We're not friends', thirteen letters, the first and last word able to split in half, with the middle world being the pivot point for pitch."

Tinker Bell threw her tiny fists and 'ooooh!'ed deeply like a groan through closed lips. Harriet looked over her at the odd display. The ex-fairy wished she had something she could throw at Harriet, but just turned around and stormed to her hut.

"Anymore is just a useless, extra word. That can also be split in half. But no one cares about 'anymore'. DON'T SLAM THE DOOR, TINKER BELL!" She shouted so the other girl would hear her, but Tinker Bell slammed the door anyway and Harriet thought that the girl must deliberately like to get in her way of making her happy. She built the door for her, for her comfort, for no rain or draft could get through there, she'd be able to sleep comfortably at night. Why throw that back in her face all of a sudden?

* * *

It seemed to Tinker Bell that she'd acquired a new protector. Harriet hung around the clearing for a few hours, which Tinker Bell spied from her window. She wondered when she would leave.

After a few hours Tinker Bell slipped out her door and passively angry she came a few feet away from Harriet's back, who was standing there staring out into the forest.

Tinker Bell cleared her throat, with folded arms.

Harriet turned around curiously, eager to hear Tinker Bell's words, whatever they were. They always sounded so pretty.

"When are you gonna leave?" Tinker Bell said, making it out like she didn't care. She stared at her fingernails.

Harriet thought. "Hm. Never." Tinker Bell looked up sharply in surprise. "I'm not leaving Neverland, if Pan has his way."

Tinker Bell's frame untensed and she dropped her arms.

"Can you leave?"

"Oh! You want me to leave?"

Tinker Bell hardly contained her rolling eyes.

"Yes." She growled.

Harriet felt sad. She didn't want to leave. But then she had a good idea, one that was better than staying here.

"'Kay, bye!" She chirped and left to the woods. Tinker Bell sighed, feeling her heart hammering, she never thought it would be that easy to get rid of her. She thought Harriet would be stubborn and stay.

* * *

"If you can throw Hook in Dark Hollow. Why didn't you throw me down there too? You obviously hate me."

"Oh, no, Tinker Bell. I rather like you. I think I'm going to keep you, if you want me to. The only reason you're not in there with Hook is because it was not meant for you." She broke a twig and looked up at Tinker Bell with a blank stare and a smile.

* * *

She kneeled, hands interlacing between her crouched knees. Now that Hook was gone, she could be more frank with Tinker Bell. No good having the pirate know the depth of her relationship with Tinker Bell. "I was mightily jealous when you went after him," 'instead of me' lingered in the air. "You went to him to free him, instead of coming to me." She stood. "I guess that's just your preference – subtle sabotage."

She would rather go behind her back than seek her out to defeat her and win Hook fair and square. Harriet felt contempt at Tinker Bell's betrayal and lack of honor.

She smiled such a big smile that Tinker Bell thought it scarred, instead of etched, her face. Her dark, hollow eyes, like a sharks, looked between Tinker Bell's with that grin on her face. Tinker Bell leaned away in inches; she didn't know who her friend was. Harriet's thoughts were unfathomable, unreachable, and no matter what magic Tinker Bell used to possess, if she had it now she would never be able to draw it out of her dark eyes.

"I like you. I can overlook the lapse of debilitatingly weak emotion on my part. The only reason you were tied up here with my good friend Hook instead of being hurt or torn apart is because you keep surprising me. I love it." She stood like what she had said was nothing and then she turned and walked away to her fire. "I can overlook my emotions for a little bit, because you delight me so."

Tinker Bell stayed quiet.

As Harriet turned, she didn't see the knife Hook had taken from her pocket while she was distracted. Tinker Bell saw it and watched him worriedly. Not worried for Harriet, but worried for Hook.

Harriet was starting to agree with Pan's plan. She was starting to like Tinker Bell so much more. The girl delighted and surprised her. She loved to be surprised. But she hated to be messed with – have her plans messed with. Contradicted. Tinker Bell had done both. It was owed to the fact they had a relationship before this incident to how light Harriet had come down on her. But it was just the beginning.


	33. S2E7

The Kingdom ran by the king was opulent and wealthy. Young women flocked from all over the kingdom to try and capture his attention. One day, the king was taken by a young woman not of noble birth, yet he had to have her. He took her into his castle, and she became his consort.

* * *

Pan appeared in Harriet's camp and just stopped dead.

All around there were shadows swarming about the place, carrying things, moving things, lifting things.

"Over there! There! Over here! Put that there!"

Upon hearing Harriet's light voice,

"Oh, be careful with that!" he caught the sight of flesh among shadows and saw an arm wave towards two shadows pulling what looked like a large chunk of a tree up, slowly, like they were feeling the weight.

"Put it up there! On the porch! Thank you!" It landed with a heavy thud on the wooden porch of the tree house and when it was dropped Pan realized Harriet was now sitting on it, waving at Pan.

"Harriet," He breathed. "Look at you… They listen to you, like some goddess, taking no heed of your mortal status, or the light within you… They seem drawn to it, yet they do not snuff it out…"

"Hi, Pan!" She waved, unable to hear him, looking like a fairy in a tree house, surrounded by shadows. "Do you want to sit?" She patted the spot next to her.

Pan turned to her then disappeared.

He appeared on the deck next to her to which she didn't look surprised but just laughed. The shadows moving things in the house and outside looked at him in curiosity but went back to what they were doing. Peter was just staring at the enigma before him, watching the shadows move her tools, wood and supplies and build her house.

_How do you understand them, Harriet? Why do they flock to you?_

"Harriet… How did you get them to do this?" He asked with a quiet breath, bated breath, then let his breath out clear of his lungs.

"Oh, it's quite simple actually, I asked them!" She looked at him. "You see, I was having trouble with all the heavy lifting, meanwhile, I have to live out here without a house!" She let out peals of laughter. She looked so beautiful to Pan. "And then they came along, I asked them, no, we had a conversation about it first, _do _they experience matter or are they truly formless? And then I asked if they could do some heavy lifting – I can't lift this great big thing here," She patted the firm, smooth log of wood beneath her. "And then it just kind of escalated into this!"

"The shadows have been leaving the Dark Forest, Dark Hollow. I came to see where they went."

Harriet looked around.

"Oh they'll go back, I promise. More just kind of kept coming. Or maybe they won't go back – but they'll go wherever they want, around Neverland." She said the end bit casually.

Pan sighed.

"Those shadows are confined to Dark Hollow. They should not leave without a good reason – something pulling them here."

Harriet looked up at Pan, and they stared at each other for a long while.

* * *

Harriet was building her masterpiece. Her new home. But she was getting frustrated with the lack of progess and the amount of work that had to go into it.

Harriet felt the coin in her pocket and sighed. She pulled it out and showed it to herself, looking at the gleaming of the silver coin. On it, was the image of something. It calmed her. It was the only link she had left. The only thing that kept her sane. Every time she looked at it, she renewed her vow that she would find it again. She _would _find it.

* * *

Harriet went, once every 30 days, for a few days at a time, to a secluded location that Pan could not see. All he could see was water, and rock, and then, nothing. She'd stay there for a few days in the middle of the month, and then come out again.

* * *

"Slave."

Harriet looked up.

"Come here."

* * *

"But you didn't throw me in! You sent me back!"

"Doesn't mean I won't come down on you. My affection for you doesn't mean I won't discipline you."

Tinker Bell stared at her friend. Then, she decided to use leverage.

"I thought you said I was yours? Does that not mean you won't hurt me?"

She felt hope when a ghostly smile of fondness came to Harriet's lips, then it faded as lightly as it came, yet somehow, it was significant.

"You're so clever, Tinker Bell. I adore you. Trying to use my words against myself and my affection for you as leverage. It won't work." She 'heh'ed in a chuckle, looking at the ground like she was in thought, always in thought. "You are mine. I actually don't care if you want to be or not. You are. I said I would never deliberately place anything in your clearing to hurt you, yes, because it is yours. You need a sense of safety and that you have things to call your own – or you would go mad. I do not want my things going mad. I like you the way you are. And you betrayed me, deliberately went against my back, when I _warned _you that you shouldn't." Her dark eyes, hollow; capturing all the light in the clearing and sealing it away at their bottomless depths, moved up to Tinker Bell's. "Did you not think there would be consequences?"

* * *

Harriet stared at Pan. Her mind saw him like a painting by Van Gogh. Starry nights, bright sunflowers.

A light, beautiful meadow.

A beautiful storm on the dark sea.

He was utterly beautiful to her.

Which is why he was hers.

* * *

Darkness. Only darkness.

There were shapes, shadows, and forms, but it meant nothing. Nothing meant anything anymore. Just whispers, shadows of his past. Milah. Oh Milah, you were gone.

He was curled up underneath a tree when she came before him, crouching to inspect him. The shadows followed behind her like an audience or followers, and crept closer with her as she crouched.

Harriet passed her hand over his eyes slowly, a light coming from her hands to brighten him up, his pupils changed with the light but he remained catatonic and unresponsive, shaking. Pale.

"What did you do to him?" Harriet asked wonderingly.

Shadow shrugged.

"We did nothing." He moved a little. "I kept them away from him."

Another shadow inched forward with a hand out to take Hook, but he never got close to Harriet, who was in front, before Shadow hissed and leaned in threateningly. The shadow cowed and pulled back.

Harriet looked over Hook's face before standing and turning to Shadow.

"You did a good job, keeping them at bay."

Shadow nodded in thanks, his arms floating.

Harriet halfway turned back to Hook. What to do with him now.

* * *

The 'painting by Van Gogh' part was inspired by the lyrics of the song 'all about your heart' by Mindy Gledhill.

The starry nights and bright sunflowers were Van Gogh paintings, but not rest of the description.


	34. S2E8

Harriet was sitting at the fire, Hook and Tinker Bell tied up behind her. She was paler than usual, and sweating at her temple as she stared into the fire.

* * *

Harriet walked forward, rubbing her face after she'd just been hit by the blonde at the cliff.

"You're highly irrational, Tinker Bell. I'm wondering if I'm just realizing it now or if I've just never seen it before."

* * *

"We have the crew members, as you asked." said one of the boys.

Peter Pan walked along the line of tied up and gagged men, his hand on his chin, assessing them.

* * *

Tinker Bell was seething. She was raging over the things Harriet was doing and her indifference towards it. She'd done what she'd had to – Harriet was hurting her friend. Harriet was doing who knows what to her friend, until she'd found that hook of his, and soon enough she'd found the place where Harriet had been keeping Hook kidnapped. She had to step in, she couldn't stand and watch on the sidelines.

'the only reason she was not in Dark Hollow was because it was not meant for her'? And there were now consequences for going against her friend in such a big way? She had no right! She wasn't some possession, she was a human being. Friends didn't do this to each other. Tinker Bell hadn't met someone so controlling, so possessive, as Harriet, since Pan. Only, thank God, his attentions were never directed at her. Her friend was dangerous.

And yet… Tinker Bell thought of all the things Harriet had done for her. She'd built her a door, evaded Tinker Bell's capture by Pan by replacing it with her own, she'd taught her how to do things she couldn't before, she'd saved her life, and kept her company and made Tinker Bell feel like she wasn't lonely on this island. She'd lied to keep Tinker Bell safe, confused her and kept her going around Neverland so she wouldn't have to enter her plans. Then she told Tinker Bell her plans as one last effort for Tinker Bell to not get involved, but at the time all the ex-fairy could see was that her friend was being taken against his will, and possibly, hurt. She hadn't seen the benefit of what Harriet was doing. She hadn't seen the amount of things she did for her.

Her eyes raised slowly to Harriet, who sat cross legged in her clearing, her hands absently playing with the grass tufts and her head turned to the side, away, thinking about something, her long hair laying against her back.

Harriet let out a cry of surprise when Tinker Bell enveloped Harriet in a tight embrace around the neck.

"Can you let go of me? This is disgusting," She said, but Tinker Bell was just holding onto her from the side like she would disappear out of thin air. Harriet sighed and relaxed, not sure why people did this. But she let Tinker Bell cling to her. If it made her feel better, then fine. She would tolerate the contact.

* * *

_Blonde is pretty. Mate with her._ Harriet rolled her shoulder to get rid of the voice. _Or Pan. YES! Mate with Pan! MATE WITH HIM!_

Harriet turned and left the clearing, not to mate with Pan, but just to find a quiet place.

_Not blonde. Dumb, irrational, **screeching **blonde, hurts our ears._

* * *

There was a large explosion in the background. Pan's expression opened and he looked up towards the direction of the sea.

"Seems I've just saved all of your lives. Now, you owe me…"

* * *

She was dancing around the fire, wooping, throwing up her hands, twirling in the most exciting, wild, and mysterious way, with the shadows hovering in the air about her side of the forest, immobile and yet unfixed, present for the spectacle.

* * *

Tinker Bell whirled around to face the direction of the sea when she heard an explosion.

"What was that?"

Harriet smiled a deranged smile, then chuckled, playing with her naturally pale hands from where she was sitting.


	35. S2E9

Harriet saw Pan at camp, and suddenly she wanted to spend more time with him.

Pan had finished his food.

Harriet appeared in front of Pan just as he was about to stand up.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" She asked cheerfully. She didn't care for his reaction and turned away, walking to the woods, expecting him to follow her.

She waited for him once she was in the forest and when he caught up, she began walking ahead, but after a few steps his arm came out in front of her gently, then he began leading. She walked obediently behind him. They crossed a tricky part of land where there were patches of quicksand, and where Pan stepped, Harriet made sure to step. Pan jumped on a fallen tree, surveying the ground quickly and jumped off. Harriet hopped off after him, trusting him. Pan held his hand out and helped her across a tricky, muddy part, and once she was next to him they walked side by side onwards.

He seemed awkward, like he didn't know what to say to her, while Harriet looked about the forest happily, exploring with her mind, oblivious to Pan's feelings. Pan seemed to notice that she was not focused on him and relaxed somewhat, striking up conversation.

"Have you thought… of what you want to do, with your newfound freedom?"

"No."

He nodded.

"It's a twat expression."

He looked at her. He held a tall fern out of the way for her and let her go first, watching her do so.

"'My newfound freedom'. I'm not free."

"You are free."

"I'm not." She looked at him fully in the face, something she rarely did. They both stopped in their tracks like that. "You say I'm free, yet this island is yours. So it's really a trick of the mind."

She turned and kept walking. Pan stood still, then with big steps caught up to her, throwing a branch out the way.

"Not many get the opportunities you do." She stopped, making him stop close behind her, nearly crashing into her. They were surrounded by branches and leaves now on all sides in close proximity.

"I know," She said softly. "Don't think I don't know that." She parted a fern and it smashed delicately into his side as he past it. "But I'm just not free, Pan," She turned around and didn't realize how close behind her he followed until she saw he was inches from her face.

"You are." He said with intensity. "Not many get what you have, Harriet. But you do because you're special. You have privileges."

"Right."

"You don't seem to realize how lucky you are," Suddenly, he was leaning in closer, intoxicated upon her presence, on being so close to her that he couldn't control himself and didn't know what he was doing until his lips met her cheekbone.

It was silent for a few moments, both of them just standing there together, not moving away, surrounded by leaves and trees on all sides, sandwiching them in in close proximity like they were the only two people on the island. His lips moved away from her cheek a few inches, eyes ahead, just feeling the unplanned intimacy of the moment.

"If I left, would you let me go?"

Pan's jaw clenched and he looked down at her, a fist at his side. Harriet looked up at him.

"Exactly."


	36. S2E10

"Slave."

Harriet looked up.

"Come here."

She didn't know, but Harriet wasn't a slave. Harriet was Harriet's.

* * *

As Pan lead and instructed the still Lost Boys, moving back and forth, building an orator's momentum, Harriet watched leaning with her elbow on a tree, her hand on the bark absentmindedly. She was waiting for a moment when he would become ugly – everybody did, they all did. Had moments where they repulsed her. But, she analyzed, Pan was always beautiful to her, she thought with no emotion. She could honestly watch him all day. And she had. She'd watched him eat, lead, rest, bathe, just sit, play, tell stories, breathe in anger, glare, smile.

* * *

"Ge' outta 'ere!" snarled a voice loudly. A girl was forcefully pushed out of a shop and the door slammed in her face, some bread in her hands. The girl blinked, turning away as the people in the town watched her. The girl began walking cheerfully, picking off pieces of the loaf of bread and putting them in her mouth. Hm. That man didn't seem to like her very much, she wondered why…

She passed a well, where there were some boys her size playing. She didn't seem to notice that they were her age, however. They were playing with sticks. She stopped in the middle of the street and watched them. Seconds later she was bumped into from all angles by pedestrians with carts and pails of water or bales of hay, the faces snarling or morphing horridly down at her until the girl was pushed out of the traffic.

She regained her balance, and then saw the boys by the well had stopped playing and were staring hungrily at her loaf of bread. She tore off half, and offered it out to them. Their faces morphed into smiles and they excitedly ran over, all six of them, and they devoured her bread in a few powerful handfuls. She had to forcibly pull away her other half, clutching it to her chest and staring at them with wide eyes. They got the hint, and slowly walked away.

She didn't like this town, she decided. She trotted and then ran out of the town gates where no one was, and headed for the travelers path to the forest. But when she got out of the morbid, wooden gates built with tall, sharpened vertical logs of wood, she saw a boy sitting against the perimeter, sighing, looking up.

For some reason, she looked at him. He and her were the only two people around. He finally looked at her. He was skinny, and small. And he was dirty all over, with a cap on his head and he wore dirty fingerless gloves as well as thin rags for clothes. Like her, the latter, but she didn't notice their similarity. She didn't notice the cold much either, but this boy must've been.

She crouched near him and gave him half of her half of the bread. She put some in her mouth and smiled at him. The boy looked amazed. Then she was up and trotting onto the traveler's path, hoping that the next town would be easier to be in.


	37. S2E11

Harriet snarled. She made a mistake – a big mistake! A _pirate_!

* * *

_"LASS! THESE ARE MERMAID WATERS!"_

* * *

"Well what do you want from me?" Tinker Bell said, throwing her hands up.

"What do I want?" She tilted her head. "Sometimes, everything. Sometimes, nothing." Her eyes changed, and her head was thrown back. "Ha! What do I want from _you? _Nothing!"

It was like she was reciting something, but Tinker Bell said nothing. She stared quietly at her friend, and she was about to turn and leave, when –

"Do you want some tea?"

Tinker Bell looked about the tree house, not sure what to say. The house looked so primitive, so unfinished. She had just wanted to check it out – hadn't expected that Harriet would be there. She thought she would still be with Pan, but apparently the girl was the one causing commotion in this part of the forest. Creating new life here.

"You have tea… _here_?"

"That's correct. Or I wouldn't have offered it."

* * *

Harriet was going crazy – what she wouldn't give for some _chocolate_! How long had it been since she had normal food? Gosh – she was going crazy with cravings! She just salivated at the thought of chocolate. Then suddenly, a bar of chocolate was in front of her, that hadn't been there a moment before.

* * *

He was so vulnerable. Grieving, partially torn apart, like a chestnut in its shell. She needed to break him for the process to be complete. He needed to be snapped before it got better, like realigning a nose or relocating a dislocated shoulder. It would be more intensely painful for a few moments but saved pain later.

She just needed to push him, to break him.

Then he would be complete. It was all he needed.

How tempting it was. Should she push him? Should she complete the process for him?

Hook looked up at her when they were on the cliff, kneeling on the edge like he was about to walk the plank on his Jolly Roger.

With one kick he was pushed, and he fell, tumbling into the darkness.

* * *

"Where am I?"

Hook's eyes blinked open. When he saw Pan's face he shot up and back like lightning and with all the grace of an elephant.

"Be calm. I'm not the one whose angry."


	38. S2E12

Harriet climbed the small hill of rocks, disappeared behind a sheet of water, and was gone from Pan's vision, where she would stay for the next few days.

* * *

_Mate. Mate with him. Mate with him._

Pots and Pans won't like that. Imagine someone just coming onto you and mating with you.

_If pretty male, niiiiiiice….._

Images of Pan crossed her eyes, the different angles she'd seen Pan's face and different stances he wore - victorious, pacing, curious, bored, withdrawn, happy. In a fast moving slideshow she saw all the images she'd seen Pan's face in morph together like a moving picture.

_Yeesss…. Look at the way the light reflects off his skin… pretty mate…_

All was quiet in her sanctuary as both human and snake came together in an understanding.

* * *

After the explosion, Tinker Bell was disoriented. She didn't know who or where she was or where she was going, that is, until she heard marching footsteps into her clearing, and Harriet, dressed up in her gear, was there.

"It's best you follow me." She said in her somber, clear voice.

Tinker Bell wasted no time.

"Was that Hook's ship?!" She asked, terrified, running to follow after the girl.

"Yes." was the curt reply. "You and I should lay low for a bit."


	39. S2E13

Second Season, chapter 13. Harriet's favorite number.

* * *

"What? How did we get here?" Tinker Bell scampered after Harriet, who moved with practiced ease up the mountainside.

"Did you not have your eyes open?"

"No, I – "

"Shut up." Harriet suddenly turned around and forcefully grabbed Tinker Bell's green clad shoulder. The ex-fairy was suddenly thrown shoulder first towards the mountain rock. Tinker Bell's blue eyes widened, thinking Harriet was going to smash her right into the mountain, when Tinker Bell fell through a deceptive gap and stumbled from the crack through into an open room like space. Tinker Bell looked around with a quiet breath. Harriet followed her and without looking at her crossed the threshold.

Tinker Bell looked around, marveling at how this was hidden.

"How did you find this place?" Tinker Bell asked.

"Neverland runs on imagination, does it not?" replied the other girl with a tone that suggested she was apathetic – or thinking. "You told me so yourself. Do you not remember?"

"I - …" Tinker Bell was dizzy. Harriet looked up at her and was across the room, catching Tinker Bell, who tried to stand, before the girl helped her to sit on the sandy, rocky floor that was uncomfortable to Tinker Bell's bum.

"It must be the mountain air. Or you're just disoriented. But that doesn't make sense, we weren't close to the blast at all." Tinker Bell just focused on her breathing, vaguely aware of Harriet moving away to the other side of the room then coming back with something. Tinker Bell tried to crawl to the cot of fur blankets she saw in the corner and Harriet aided her. Tinker Bell's head hit the furs and she was out like a light. Harriet watched her, then put down the skin of water she had.

* * *

When Tinker Bell woke up she at first didn't know where she was and sat up quickly, but that made her head woozy. She looked around and relaxed when she saw Harriet's back, who was seated at a desk along the cave wall. The memories came back to her then. There were a few gasp lamps placed around the cave to light it up. The only sound was from the tinkering of whatever Harriet was doing.

"How are you not affected?" Tinker Bell said. The girl looked so normal, so fine.

"Higher threshold." Harriet replied, putting down what sounded like a dish. She turned and got up from her seat, moving over to a few bowls where some food was, using a grinder to grind up some herbs.

"These grow on the mountainside. Good for nausea."

Tinker Bell accepted the bowl and just imagined how Harriet could have found out these leaves had these properties. She pictured Harriet munching on the leaves like a cow.

Harriet looked up and stared oddly at the girl when the ex-fairy started laughing and laughing. Tinker Bell laughed uncontrollably, turning on her side away from Harriet so she wouldn't see the face she pulled when she laughed, snorting and then laughing harder. It took a few seconds for Harriet to figure out what was happening.

"Oh dear." She said calmly.

Tinker Bell let out new peals of laughter, clutching her stomach, still holding the bowl as she was unaware when Harriet got up.

Tinker Bell felt water splash onto her face and she gasped, sputtering. Harriet stood above her, holding the skins like one was icing a cake.

When Tinker Bell calmed down and suddenly saned, realizing what she was just doing, she noticed Harriet was glaring at her.

"That was all our water. That was meant to last a few days. You make me angry."

"What… I don't know what happened…" At the look on the girl's face, Tinker Bell said. "I'm sorry, Harriet."

Harriet turned away curtly.

"Forgiven." She walked with deliberate steps back to the desk, which Tinker Bell had no idea how it got there through such a tiny gap in the mountainside. Imagination, remember? "Go back to sleep. Sleep the effects off."

As Tinker Bell fell asleep, she remembered waking up once before the time she just had.

_Woozy, disoriented, Tinker Bell woke up very, very slowly and groggily. Then her memories came back in a flash._

"_Why did you do that, Harriet? Hook's ship – why? Now he's stranded on the island and he has no way back!"_

"_Stop screaming. You always scream. Hurts our ears."_

"_Our…?" Tinker Bell panted, but any thought she had next were gone as she fell over into a deep slumber in the furs._

When Tinker Bell woke up next, she screeched and threw things at Harriet. She only had the waterskin, and it missed by a long shot due to Tinker Bell's sleepiness and anger. It flopped off the wall hollowly. Tinker Bell began looking for other things to throw, Harriet looking at her, standing to the side like an attentive robot.

"Explain your reasons rationally."

"ARGH!" She threw a pebble at Harriet, who swerved and the rock hit her desk. Harriet watched it. "ARGH!" She threw something else.

In the end, Tinker Bell only had dirt to throw and it just scattered into the room like sand in the desert. She'd tried the furs, but they were nailed to the cot.

Harriet just stood apathetically, watching the whole thing.

"Will it stop now?"

Tinker Bell panted, kneeling on the cot, the furs twisted in her hands. Harriet thought that she was only wasting her energy and resources, but she let Tinker Bell work it out on the furs. They would have to be replaced.

She didn't answer Harriet, and for once Harriet didn't expect her to. She seemed obviously working through a process. To respect Tinker Bell's space, she turned and sat on her desk chair, but thought she needed to be in the wings and available just in case. Tinker Bell plonked down onto the furs and fell asleep.

_Well, _Harriet thought. _That's a great help._

* * *

When Pan had planted the hook in Tinker Bell's path so Tinker Bell would come across Harriet's camp, Harriet had been annoyed. Why was that boy meddling?

"I just wanted to see what you'd do, having another player in the game," He grinned at her, looking at her from under his eyebrows excitedly.

"…This isn't a game." She said slowly, quietly.

"Oh, it is. You're playing a game with me. I have the crew now. What are you going to do?"

Harriet sighed.

"You make it sound like we're battling."

"We are." He smirked smugly.

"No, we're not." She said with careful measure. He took a step closer, chin raised.

"Then what are we doing, Harriet?" He asked, huskily.

She looked between his eyes.

"Well, _I'm _working for a purpose here. I don't know what you're doing."

* * *

Hook scrambled back from Pan, and saw he was in Pan's camp. For once, the Lost Boys were not there.

"Relax." Pan said again.

"…Did you save me?" Hook asked. Pan smirked, and stood from where he'd been sitting on a log, pacing over with leisure.

"You're here for one reason, and one reason only."

Hook sat up, regaining his composure and looked down on himself. He wiped his lip, seeing there were no other injuries or anything missing like his hook.

"Oh, and what's that?"

Pan smirked. "Cheeky." He turned serious. "No. One purpose, Hook. You're going to take up my work again."

"No, I'm not." Hook shook his head and stood, looking at where the hook used to be and sighed, lowering his arm. "Not after that last one went bad."

"Oh come off it, it's not that bad," chided Pan.

"I spent _three days _in Dark Hollow. And you're telling me that's not bad?"

"Well you came out of it alive, didn't you?" Pan pulled his brows together, voice mocking. "Harriet made sure the shadows didn't even touch you. What you experienced was your own darkness, that you haven't faced."

"She-" Hook stopped. She did?

He'd been in darkness for three days. He knew nothing but the darkness. Now he's being told that she'd deliberately not made it as worse as it could be? Well, he was one lucky pirate.

"It was most entertaining, watching the two of you interact. Not to mention how a man was taken down by a girl half his size." The boy grinned.

"Yes, well," Hook said for a lack of anything better to say. "I'm not doing your work again."

"Oh come on," Pan cajoled. "You enjoyed it."

"The last one I did not,"

Pan laughed.

"And if you even _think _of trying to pull your charms on Harriet again, I'll have your head, understand?" His voice slowed by the end, low, then light.

Hook read Pan's eyes.

"I see. She's important to you then."

Pan's eyes simmered.

* * *

Tinker Bell's eyes blinked open and she, for the first time, clearly saw everything. She sat up quickly.

"Harriet?"

"I am right here," Harriet said, annoyed of her voice interrupting her whenever she was working. She had a lot to do. But she looked up and over at Tinker Bell, writing down in a journal that it took three days for the effects to wear off completely. Excellent.

"You look better." She said.

Tinker Bell held her head.

"Don't speak… Don't talk… Head hurts…" Harriet made a note of that and stood up, holding out the skin of water cautiously just in case she decided to do anything with it that would waste it. Harriet had had to risk going down to the river at a time like this to go and get some more. She wasn't entirely sure she'd come back undetected.

"What happened to me?" Tinker Bell said when she gave back the waterskin. "That was _not _just mountain air."

"No it wasn't. I poisoned your food." Harriet said neutrally.

Tinker Bell looked up at Harriet and laughed. Harriet blinked and wondered why she thought she was joking.

"Very funny… Can I have some water again?" Harriet was already thrusting the water into her hands before she finished, eyes intent on her mouth, and then suddenly Tinker Bell's jaws were pried open, Harriet looking around her mouth, Tinker Bell protesting with her voice but no words about to be sounded out because her mouth was open.

Tongue parched. Inner cheeks slightly parched too. She let go and returned to her desk, intent to write it down. After she did so, she snapped the book shut and laid it carefully on the desk.

"You… really _did _poison me!" Tinker Bell realized with wide eyes.

Harriet sighed with exasperation. "I did not lie to you. I told you I did."

"You -!" Tinker Bell said with rising anger, trying to use her leg to get up. "_Why _did you do that?!" She found she couldn't get up.

Harriet did not turn around as she answered her.

"Consequences." She said. "And I had to test it out on _someone_."

"You _experimented _on me?!" screeched Tinker Bell, making poor Harriet's ears sore and her eyes close at it.

"Well, I had wanted to use the crew, but Pan has them." She said forlornly. "Oh hush now, it's not experimentation. Although, it _is, _just for the greater good. You needed to be taught a lesson, as well." Harriet's dark eyes were on Tinker Bell when she turned around. Tinker Bell found she could not move her legs. It was a tense moment for Tinker Bell and Tinker Bell alone, because Harriet did not notice. Then she turned around.

"I made food." She walked somewherre, picked up a bowl. "It's not poisoned this time."

Tinker Bell looked at her friend warily, and Harriet put the bowl down next to her when she didn't take it. Without meaning to, Tinker Bell noticed the circles under Harriet's eyes.

"Harriet, have you not been sleeping?"

"Been trying. You toss and turn. And yank the blankets."

"Oh, I'm sorry…"

Harriet rubbed her earlobe. "I think you dream. Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad."

"I never remember."

Harriet crouched and checked over their supplies for the third time, putting a hand over her mouth in thought.

* * *

Regina walked cheerfully down the hall in one of her tightest, silkiest, blackest dresses, coming into a room and taking the cover off a silver dish, popping a cherry into her mouth.

"Fruit?" She offered sweetly to her charge on the furniture. She smiled sickeningly sweet with red, sharp pillow lips. "Oh now, now, dear. You always have that look on your face, you're not upset are you?" The Evil Queen leaned over with her hands on her lap, batting her eyes and pursing her lips. The blank expression did not change. Regina smiled a real smile and chuckled closed-liply with malice and pleasure, straightening and sauntering away back to the fruit.

"Your Highness," Two guards entered the large room.

"Speak," commanded Regina with her back to them.

"The treasures you've been looking for, they've been found."

"Excellent," purred Regina, whirling, walking two steps closer, hands on her hips. Her up do shined in the crystal chandelier.

"It's been found in an abandoned wagon in the woods, Your Majesty," He bowed.

"Excellent. Bring it up here." The two guards left.


	40. S2E14

Check the last scene of the last chapter (episode) again to know what it going on here.

* * *

"Somebody managed to steal from me about six months ago," She drawled, looking at her fruit again, picky. "Bandits." She said with distaste, slamming down a platter lid. She smiled at the figure on the couch, and sauntered over quickly, yet gracefully. "But it's been found, and the perpetrators dead." She grinned in evil pleasure, hands dipped in gems rubbing together after she took slow, deliberate seating on a plush purple cushion. "Not that you would be interested in that," She pushed her long black ponytail over her shoulder, staring hard at the child. "Do you even think anything at all?" She mocked.

There was no answer. Her new toy sat with their eyes on the low rise table between them. Regina chuckled in pleasure, and malice.

The same two guards walked in carrying treasure with more guards behind them bringing boxes filled to the brim of coins, jewels and gold and silver objects.

Regina stood up hurriedly.

"What took you so long?"

"Sorry, Your Majesty." The corner being filled up. "More's coming."

"Well it better," muttered Regina in pursed displeasure, turning her cloak behind her so that she could walk away.

* * *

Pan's eyes simmered. He expected Hook to walk away, dismiss him, but he did not, he just stood.

There was a rare, considerate moment from Hook, the pirate.

"Keep her close while you can, Pan." Hook said softly. "You never know when you'll lose her."

* * *

"So, what, I have no ship, no way off this island," Hook started.

"You can have it back," Pan said with a light air, walking up a small dirt rise to a higher platform of the forest. "As soon as you begin working for me again."

"Oh right, because I very much enjoyed that last one," He pulled out his rum flask, and had trouble with it since he only had one hand, but used his teeth to pull out the cork and spat it somewhere before taking a swig. "Who know what others will come back to haunt me."

Pan smirked and looked at him like he was very amusing.

"Harriet is… unpredictable."

"A bloody sea witch. You told me I was bringing a young maiden aboard, but it was a bloody sea witch that I met."

"Your troubles will be more than worth it."

"Oh, and why's that?"

* * *

She strutted to her mirror upon the wall, smiling again.

"Mirror mirror," She said flirtatiously, twirling her ponytail.

A face appeared in the mirror that was not hers.

"Yes, my fair Queen?"

Regina raised her chin. "Show me the bandits, I want to see their miserable faces again,"

"They are dead already, milady."

"Oh, good," Regina said, chuffed, turning away. "My huntsman works quickly," She eyed her food with a smile and popped a cherry in her mouth, chewing happily with a bounce in her hip.

"It appears, milady, they were slain before your huntsman arrived,"

Regina turned around, a frown in her brow and a small curl coming to the corner of her lip.

In the mirror was an image of a campsite in the woods, where the bandits were lying in different positions, dead.

"Who's the girl?" Regina snarled, uncaring and her lip pulling to the side, eyebrow pulling up once.

"A slave, it appears." replied the mirror neutrally.

Regina's lip curled. Her hand waved and the picture disappeared as she turned around and away.

"My only wish was that they suffered."


	41. S2E15

"_What do you want from me?"_

"_What do I __**want**__? Ha! What do I want from __**you**__? Nothing!"_

_She advanced a step in the pouring rain, the sleet slushing across the deck as the ship swayed, eye contact penetrating. He was terrified. Just what __**had **__he brought on his ship?_

"_I want __**everything**__, Killian Jones. But I want nothing from you."_

_The wide, deranged grin, the flash of lightning, the alight eyes, his skewed vision from his fallen stance._

"_I'd claim you as mine, but you are not. You belong to someone else."_

_A look over the shoulder._

_Then she was gone. He heard a faint splash. His face morphed into horror – for the fate she'd just sealed herself in was none he'd wish upon anyone. He staggered up, hand and hook on the lip of his ship._

"_LASS! THESE ARE MERMAID WATERS!"_

* * *

Hook supposed, reflecting on it, that if she could plunge into mermaid waters and come out fine on the other side, that really, if she threw him into the pit of darkness, he'd come crawling out the other end too. Okay, that didn't make too much sense, he thought with a shake of his head.

"And what of my crew?" Hook was following Pan was they were walking up a steady incline of dirt. The forest surrounding them was beautiful, the air clear. It was like when he had first come to Neverland, where he marveled at the beauty, the silence, and the serenity. "Surely they haven't met their demise either, have they?"

"You can have them back too," replied the immortal boy, not looking behind him as he advanced upwards. He sounded like he was thinking. Hook raised his brows, mouth open, taking his words with a pinch of salt, glancing at a bush with red berries. Inedible. Before carrying on. If you were playing a game with Pan he played by his own rules. In his own time. In his own way.

Hook sighed and irritatedly pushed a branch of leaves out of his face, climbing ever higher after Pan.

* * *

This had never been so exciting, to Pan. A game, with his own little Harriet. How _fun,_ and invigorating. Things had never been this exciting to him before.

* * *

"I finally found you," A female voice, dripping into her ear. Harriet quickly stood up, the forest dark green around her, alarmed. The world spun as she tried to focus on the old woman, who hobbled over to her from the side of the forest. Her arms were raised, knobbly fingers poking out of her long dark sleeves.

"Think you can hide from _me_?!"

A burst of white light engulfed the two, and when it was gone the old woman was on the ground, and Harriet was standing, panting.

She met a boy on her panicked way out, in her disoriented and fearful state smacked right into him and fell over. She immediately had to warn him.

"It's not safe here," She said quickly, holding her head where they collided, where in her panic she hadn't seen him coming. "Go away." She had to forcibly shove him so he would move. For some reason he was frozen. She wouldn't let him go in there, like she did, and face the troubles and dangers she had. She disappeared behind a fallen tree after she shoved him. The boy looked startled, on the floor still, she noticed from the wood where she teleported, a spot behind a fallen tree where he couldn't see her. He slowly sat up and looked around, making her duck behind the tree again, just before she saw his profile. She would have teleported further away, but after using her magic on the old woman she had little left. She held her head and left.


	42. S2E16

It was a cold night. Harriet was struggling. She put a hand to her pale, sweaty forehead. The voice kept whispering fervently.

Everything was ready. Finally.

Night fell over the mountain and Harriet stood, wrapping the blankets around Tinker Bell's shivering form more. She sat on the cot, bouncing a little in the furs, then fell on her side to sleep, without blankets. She'd need her sleep, for the day she'd have tomorrow.

* * *

The mountain was a clear, fresh white as he climbed it. Jagged rocks and jutting shapes came from the rocky terrain. He passed a seemingly normal part of the mountain when he felt a flicker of Harriet, he could only just sense her, only for a moment. He moved back and reached his hand out. It passed through an illusory part of the mountain, where the wall was really an entrance. He passed through it and felt his troubles rewarded by who he found there.

"Harriet."

* * *

Tinker Bell was out at the stream, filling their canteens. The trees around the stream were silent and serene. Out of the woods came a figure, and she looked up when she caught it in the corner of her eye.

"Killian!" She stood up hopefully. She glanced around for Pan cautiously. "What are you doing here?" She edged over. He walked over quickly.

* * *

Harriet was standing there, looking at Pan. She didn't look any different, although he hadn't seen her for a few days. He missed being able to see her every day, like when she was in his camp. After Neverland was divided up so she would have a part for herself, she'd spent more time there every day. He'd still seen her, but now it was comforting.

"Harriet," Pan stepped forward just slightly. "I've searched so long to find you," Harriet's gaze swiveled a little.

"Can you solve a riddle?" asked Harriet abruptly. "What five letter word gets shorter when you add two more letters to it?"

Pan put his hand to his chin.

* * *

Pan surveyed her quickly once he entered the hideaway. She looked fine, which was mildly surprising.

* * *

A riddle? A test. Hm.

"Short." He replied. Harriet looked like she didn't know what to do. Her heart was thundering in her chest. He came over, came closer, until he stood right in front of her with intense eyes.

* * *

"Look, whatever he's got planned for that girl, it's big, okay. Come with me. If you leave this island with me as soon as Pan gives me the go ahead, you can be free. You can leave Neverland."

Tink moved between her two feet and he felt a smile come to his face at her familiar habit.

"He's letting you leave the island?"

"As soon as I finish this job. He's giving me the Jolly Roger back and my crew." For once, things were going good, and Hook felt good in his heart, which felt strange to him since he had just lost Milah. He smiled towards the blue eyed girl.

"I could make you a better hook than that lousy hook you had."

Killian laughed softly.

"Tink, you don't have your magic anymore," He said bewilderedly.

* * *

He took her arms in his hands. He didn't need to take in the room, his eyes were only on her.

"I did everything I could. After that day, when you saved me, I had to find you again. At first it was just to thank you, but, it turned into something more."

* * *

His face morphed into realization.

Tinker Bell's face moved into a sly smile.

Hook immediately changed, looking at her warningly.

"You should not be here. Pan is looking for you."

"That, I am well aware," Tinker Bell said before in a plume of purple smoke, Harriet stood in her place. "He is _always_ looking for me."

He'd been tricked into giving all of his information. He'd been tricked.

"She-devil." He swore quietly. The beautiful grin widened and she started chuckling deeply.

"Now, you don't _really _believe that, do you Killian?" She asked with a raised eyebrow like he should be smarter.

* * *

Even though time didn't move in Neverland, she was a creature of change. Her internal clock kept ticking, of every thirty days. And as time would eclipse closer to the center of the month, she got more testy, daring, and challenging.

* * *

"I only do what is necessary, Hook. And I could make you a hook the likes of which would make you famous."

"No thanks." He said firmly, turning away. Killian bit his lip. He had to plan, strategize.

"Of course, any would have been better than that last one. Because the one you had was a real joke, laughable, trampy." She continued.

Hook stopped and turned slowly. "It was not _trampy._"

"It so was," Harriet countered calmly with informatively raised eyebrows. "No pirate should dress like that."

Hook looked offended.

"I had it done by a very respectable blacksmith."

"A blacksmith, who makes wood?"

"Well, he was a merchant really," Hook replied more quietly. "Dabbled on the side."

"Well he was a shitty blacksmith. You could do better. _I'll _make you one you can be proud of."

"No thanks." He bit out. "My moniker 'hook' still stands whether or not it's wood or silver I wear." He turned from her. He heard a short pause, then a calm voice.

"I wasn't asking. I'm making you one, and you _will _wear it."

Hook looked back at her with a dark brow over his black eye.

"Who _are _you, girl?"

There was a long silence.

"Are you telling me you really don't know my name?"

"Well, no. I forget."

"You honestly forgot? When I was one of your jobs?"

"Well I maraud and plunder and one tends to forget names and ports by the end of it all," He drawled and turned away and walked away disinterestedly.

_Just embarrassing, _She thought about his hook. Good thing she'd taken it when she had. What if he met a girl? She'd just be repulsed. Who'd ever heard of a _wooden _hook? It was just laughable.


	43. S2E17

He came into a clearing where a young woman was, stirring some food on the fire. She looked up with a clear, beautiful face and beautiful eyes and smiled at him.

"Are you lost, young traveler? Care for a bit to eat before you be on your way?" She batted her eyes and smiled.

"No. I am told you are the old witch that lives in these woods."

The young maiden stood up serenely and wiped her hands in her skirts.

"I'm afraid I don't know who you mean."

"I look for the one that goes by the name of Harriet."

"_Harriet_?" The woman screamed, her visage suddenly changing and morphing into that of an old crone, hunched over. She looked at him with beady eyes.

"Oh, you are that boy searching for immortality…" She grinned a crooked grin, warts on her chin, nose and cheek.

"Where is she?"

Screeching, she turned away disinterestedly, hobbling over to where her pot was, which had now morphed into a cauldron.

"I know not where she is, boy. Do you think if I did, that I would not find her?" She whirled around. "No. I leave the one that is called Harriet, alone. She is no one to trifle with. You'd get your hands too far down the rabbit hole with that one."

"You will tell me how to find her." Pan cut in. "I've seen her once on this road."

"Ha haa," laughed the old woman mirthlessly, turning away to her cauldron. "Many people have 'seen' her, boy," She spat the last word. "A one-time occurrence. You shall not find her again, if she has her way."

* * *

Pan didn't think anything of her evasiveness as he spoke, because it was not out of character for Harriet. She was sometimes intensely focused, sometimes very evasive.

But when she continued to have no response to him, he knew something was wrong. He finally searched with his magic and paid very fine attention to the girl in front of him, and what he saw made his eyes narrow and his magic darken.

Fear entered Harriet's dark eyes, and in the next second Pan had stripped the illusion from Tinker Bell, and the ex-fairy stood there.

"I'm really very sorry, Pan," She apologized immediately. "She told me to say it."

"Pan." He turned around and faced the real Harriet.

* * *

Her power crescendo'd. Now it was time.

* * *

He could sense something different about her as she entered the mountain hideaway. Ah, so that's why 'Harriet' hadn't felt any different. It should be near the middle of the month soon.

She nodded at Tinker Bell and then Tinker Bell disappeared in a puff of smoke from Harriet's doing. The boy and the girl stood alone together.

"You're quite clever."

She only stared at him. Yes, this was really her now, he could sense it. It was like he could sense more of her now, for some reason, than ever before.

He walked forward and crossed the threshold. Her eyes told him to stop. He did so, then he walked forward again when her eyes cleared and he stroked her hair, his arm around her back while doing so.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly, their heads close together.

"Yes," She softly replied. He took a slow step back, and they looked at one another.

She slowly smiled.

"What has three legs –"

His fingers and his palms were in her hair as he tilted her head back and kissed her.

She mewled right into the kiss in surprise but did not pull away. He kissed her over and over until he pulled away.

"Come home with me, Harriet. I've missed you." He took her hand and held it. "Let's not fight."

She let him kiss her hand, and he looked at her imploringly.

She blinked at him.

"Whether I am here or there it doesn't matter," She said. He let a grin come onto his face. "But the reason I am doing this remains."

"Anything to keep you at my side, love."

* * *

"The Shadow won't take you away from Neverland," Pan appeared behind her, the wind blowing bitingly. They were higher up in the mountain than before in the highest spot one could reach in Neverland without flying. "I won't let him."

Harriet looked around in the cold without seeming to feel it, curious of the night sky and the twinkling stars.

"Just wanted to get closer to heaven," She replied, before turning around with a large grin on her face. "Oh Pan, I just wanted some change."

"Change?"

"Yes," She cooed. "I am a creature of change. Neverland is the land of immortality – a constant, still state. Nothing moves. The grains of the sands of time do not shift here. It's a wonder you're still alive. It's a kind of death, to stay here forever."

Pan's chest was moving up and down faster, but it was unclear whether it was from the cold wind or from emotion.

"I thought if I brought you here, you would be happy."

She shrugged calmly.

"You thought many things." Eye contact. She was beautiful, he thought. Yet, she was losing some of it, she was losing something. "You did not do your research. You do not know me accurately."

"I know what you are, _who _you are," He replied immediately. "And when I kissed you, I knew what I was doing."

"When you brought me here, you brought me here to die."

"You are not going to die here – "

"Stillness is a state of death. I cannot be still, even if I tried. I am ever evolving, ever changing. Pan, you can't stop that, even with all the love in the world. You love me selfishly, love one aspect of me - and deny the rest."

"I don't deny you. Anything you want, you can have."

She started laughing richly, pulling her chin back a little as she laughed more. Her grin was so beautiful.

"I don't _want _anything. I simply want to be. I want to be all states – because choosing one would mean living half a life. I cannot stop, and I would not want to. Living a half life for you would mean murdering my soul."


	44. S2E18

Now, I will warn you people again, that this IS a different kind of story. If you don't like that, then you don't need to read. It's very, very different and it's not going to be like anything you've read before. Most people don't like different, but I do, which is why I've written it. Some people like different, however, and you're welcome to read my story.

There will be something in here that you've seen earlier in the story, and I'm doing that on purpose.

There will be some small mindedness, judgment, ignorance, and cruelty towards people perceived to be disabled in this chapter, be forewarned. They are not my opinions or views. It is simply a part of the story.

This is an M rated story.

* * *

He came into a clearing where a young woman was, stirring some food on the fire. She looked up with a clear, beautiful face and beautiful eyes and smiled at him.

"Are you lost, young traveler? Care for a bit to eat before you be on your way?" She batted her eyes and smiled.

"No. I am told you are the old witch that lives in these woods."

The young maiden stood up serenely and wiped her hands in her skirts.

"I'm afraid I don't know who you mean."

"I look for the one that goes by the name of Harriet."

"_Harriet_?" The woman screamed, her visage suddenly changing and morphing into that of an old crone, hunched over. She looked at him with beady eyes.

"Oh, you are that boy searching for immortality…" She grinned a crooked grin, warts on her chin, nose and cheek.

"Where is she?"

Screeching, she turned away disinterestedly, hobbling over to where her pot was, which had now morphed into a cauldron.

"I know not where she is, boy. Do you think if I did, that I would not find her?" She whirled around. "No. I leave the one that is called Harriet, alone. She is nothing to trifle with."

"You will tell me how to find her." Pan cut in. "I've seen her once on this road."

"Ha haa," laughed the old woman mirthlessly, turning away to her cauldron. "Many people have 'seen' her, boy," She spat the last word. "A one-time occurrence. You shall not find her again, if she has her way."

* * *

The merchants didn't know who she was. Nor did the underbelly of the world that could be found crawling in the cracks of the system, nor magic folk. He found one man, darkly hooded, at a table outside a tavern that had information on her. He told him that she'd come from another land, with another name. A dying world. Hooded in midnight, the man did not tell Pan his name. And he never found him again.

* * *

"Your Highness, if I may ask, who is she?" asked the man in the mirror.

Regina looked over to the girl sitting in the middle of the room, books all around her, papers everywhere, and looked back disinterestedly.

"The brat?" She said heavily, her opinion blunt. "Just a girl I decided to bring home with me,"

"A stray?"

Regina smiled sweetly.

"Picked her up off the side of the road," She pouted, eyelids fluttering. "She knows nothing, does nothing. She just sits there all day. She doesn't speak."

"I wonder," said the mirror, and it was in a way that made Regina look at the mirror. "What is a child at that age reading texts that large?"

Regina looked over to the girl – her slave girl.

"Huh. Maybe she thinks she'll find pictures in it,"

Regina tittered a real laugh that could have been beautiful if it were in another setting. She covered the laugh with her hand, because it was not ladylike. Her face darkened with malice at the thought of her mother. Her dead mother.

She whirled around.

"Girl, get out! I have to do some private talking here!"

* * *

"Running a kingdom is busy work," She said with a term of endearment to the mirror.

"I wonder," said the man in the mirror. "how many guardians does this girl have?"

"None," Regina said haughtily, as if she were proud. "Only me."

"Then, I wonder," continued the mirror. "when did you find the time to teach her to read?"

* * *

Harriet was a nice name. She liked that one. In the list of names in the large, thick book in Regina's library, none had stuck out.

Names didn't mean much to her – it was all the same in the first place. But if she was going to be out in the world, she was going to need a name. After all, that previous lady – one of her first questions was, 'what is your name'? And the girl didn't have an answer.

Harriet. Harriet.

She liked the name on her tongue.

Her name now was Harriet.

* * *

"Oh, you're reading, slave? I did not know you knew how to read, slave." The word 'slave' was stressed each time.

The figure was looking at her. Regina found it amusing how the small girl could be surrounded by big books, all open.

Regina's tongue ran over her teeth as she chuckled in her throat in maximum amusement.

"Who told you you could be in here?"

She got no answer. This child was defective in more ways than one. She could not talk, and Regina was wondering if she was deaf, also. The girl did not look up at her. Regina knew nothing of children but children were supposed to respond when they were spoken to, isn't that so?

"And what _are _you reading?" She batted her long eyelashes with a light voice like one would make fun of a child, and the woman picked up a tomb, lips falling at the size of it when it was bigger than was expected, and read upon its contents. She whirled around to the child.

"Why are you reading this?!" Regina demanded with a stabbing finger at the book.

The girl looked up at her, silent. Regina could not read anything from her eyes.

The Evil Queen raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms, then her face morphed into a smile and she dropped her stance. Her heavenly smile graced no audience but the ceiling, her glamorous white teeth showing, surrounded by red cupid lips, the Queen's hand on her face as she laughed.

She'd forgotten who this girl was. Nothing. No one.

Nothing went in into her tiny little brain. She couldn't even speak, for merlin's sake!

"_You? Magic? _If you wish to read about magic, go ahead." She chuckled deeply and titillatingly to herself, turning around and her curvy figure, outlined by her dress, sauntered away. Her hands in the air. "Be my guest."

* * *

The girl looked down at the books after she left. The Evil Queen – she'd been hearing about.

She _could _talk, but for some reason she clammed up around the woman. She did not want to speak – she just shut down at the way she was spoken to.

They put her in here, with the books, when the Queen had needed someplace to put her whenever she didn't need her, and she had shooed the guard to put her in the first place she saw – the library.

"The one thing a girl wastes her time in," Regina said, snarling, then she smiled prettily and glided away like she was sauntering on air. It was like she wanted to ruin the girl's future on purpose.

* * *

She had wanted to change her name, go back to the first one she was given by her mother. Tigerlily. But the sea had destroyed her, and the sea had made her. She was Harriet.

* * *

Chapter 44, S2E18


	45. S2E19

_"You're my Harriet,"_ She heard the female voice in her ears, her eyes shifting in recognition behind her eyelids at the voice. She could feel the hand on her hair, pushing a lock of hair behind her head. _"Nothing can take you away from me,"_

But it had.

* * *

"You're quite pretty, girl," Regina realized one day while assessing her choice of poison. She'd have to introduce her to the brat, Snow White.

"My name is Harriet."

Regina gasped softly. The glass in her hands shattered on the floor, on her velvet dress. It was so quiet, the words spoken, that Regina thought she'd imagined it.

Harriet met Snow White, and Regina chuckled to herself on her throne at how she would ruin both their lives.

* * *

She learned through interaction in the towns that people liked to talk, and they wanted her interaction and her eye contact. They used words a lot and she had to adapt to have success – to get food, water, communicate these to them when she gave them silver coins. She thought it was disgusting, but if it gave her the things she needed then she would do it, but as minimally as possible.

* * *

In the lessons, she was supposed to 'learn her manners', but Harriet thought it was a pain and refused to learn. That is, until she saw the difference she was treated with when she 'had manners' and when she 'didn't have manners' and swiftly learnt politeness and culture.

* * *

She didn't understand. If she wanted to leave, if it was truly in her heart and soul and that's where she would be happiest, then there he would put her.

* * *

"There's this girl I want you to find."

"Alright," said Hook from where he lounged from a tree. "She'll be in the Enchanted Forest. Take her to Neverland,"

"Why can't you do it yourself? That's your specialty, isn't it? Bringing the lost to Neverland?"

"Not this one." Pan said with intensity. "She has to come through you."

Hook caressed his rum flask before nodding.

"Aye, then. Is she… important to you?"

"That's none of your business."

* * *

She _asked _to be taken away.


	46. S2E20

"Excuse me,"

The port was the one where the more _risqué _sailors dwelled, magical and non magical. It was where one went to do business one did not talk about. The dock was full of ships and men moving about.

Hook had been helping his crew move barrels onto his ship when he looked up to see a young lass standing there with a travelling sack on her shoulder.

"Would you spare cabin space in exchange for a few silver coins?"

Hook's face changed then it went into a smile.

"But lass, you don't know where you're headed."

She shook her head.

"It doesn't matter. Anywhere but here. I'm moving on from an old place," She said.

Hook nodded. All the easier for him.

He bowed and took her hand.

"Well then, lass, welcome aboard. The name's Killian – Killian Jones. I am a sailor, and here's my crew."

She boarded she one ship that held no pirate flag or any warning signs. That is, until the illusion dispelled as soon as they arrived in Neverland.

* * *

Harriet was seated in the hideaway cave around the fire and Pan was sitting opposite her, looking at her.

"Harriet. Yes, I like that name." She said.

He looked at her, the light playing on his eyelashes.

"You _asked _to be taken here." He said. "And you belong here."

She thought back in her memory, thinking of the countless times she'd asked to be taken away.

She nodded.

"That is true, I did ask. I do not blame you for bringing me here. Belonging here? I do not know about that."

She thought for a second.

"I feel comfortable in my part of the island, my territory. I find myself disturbed, however, with the noises and cries at night."

"They are the lost, that arrive here in their sleep."

She looked up at him.

"Is that how you heard me? If so, why pick me to bring here over the millions of other broken souls?"

Pan scoffed lightly.

"There is a time and a place for everything," He said gently.

She looked down into the fire.

"You're trying to attain immortality, aren't you?"

His brow furrowed.

"What gave me away?"

She looked down and her finger drew abstract patterns on her trouser.

"You do not match with Neverland. You're an acquisition to it. You've bonded, but you were not made from here. Anything made from here is eternal. Therefore, you are not, and you are trying to be by bonding with the land." She looked up at him.

He had nothing to say. There wasn't anything to say.

"You must love life more than anyone."

"What?"

"To try to attain immortality. You must love life more than anyone to not want to lose it."

She smiled and looked down at her pant leg again at the patterns she was drawing.

He stared intensely over the fire at her, with bewilderment and admiration.

He moved over around the fire and sat behind her so she was between his legs. She looked at what he was doing.

"It's nice just to sit like this," He explained.

She resumed what she was previously doing.

"If you say so."

His hands were around her, almost touching by her knees as she was solely focused on her task. He watched what she was doing.

"What are you doing?"

She looked at him and their faces were very close. She looked down again.

"I don't know." She didn't know how to put it into words.

He was thinking about that boyfriend/girlfriend talk they had and wondered about bringing it up again. She pulled in a breath suddenly and said to him,

"There was once this land, Pan. Oh, it was so exciting. There was once this land, a dying land, where there was a kingdom ruled by a king." She looked at him informatively. "His name was Medesus." She looked back down at her pant leg again, much like when she was sewing, he realized. "And he ruled just fine. The kingdom was opulent. He had a wife, but, she died. Women flocked from all over the land to become his bride – as no King is without a bride – and one day, he became enamored by a young woman – me – and he took me into his palace and the date was set for our wedding. I, however, was not interested in marriage. I went only for a specific purpose. I went into the garden where only the King was allowed, and there were three fallen angels, Pan. They had knowledge of all of heaven. We talked for a while, Pan, and we decided that the only way for the knowledge to get out into the public's hands was for me to write it down. You see, the King didn't want it out. He wanted to keep it for himself. So I devoured the angels and I went into the temples of the Kingdom, writing in their blood all the knowledge they had."

_**Tasty birdies...**_

She turned around to him suddenly, eyes alight as she stared into his.

"Can you guess what's going to happen next?"

"No."

"Oh, Pan! You're so boring! This is what happened – the King was enraged that the information had got out," She slapped her knee, spasming in laughter. "I couldn't stop laughing! Anyway, it was out now, and the entire kingdom went into uproar over how their King had kept so much from them. Their opulence was a lie – they were really poor, and unwealthy. And when the knowledge came out all the illusions shattered and because their foundations were so poor as a kingdom, the world started dying." She looked up at him. "I had to leave Pan. So I had a witch bound me in my bones, because she said I couldn't just pass through to another world being so big. But that meant I was separated from my treasure. And I was a child again, a little girl. But I passed through the world, not without being cursed by the King, who had a _different _witch curse me. So, that's it."

She looked back abruptly at her pant leg where she drew her patterns.

"That's the story of the land."

* * *

Medesus is pronounced - MEH-DEH-SOOS


	47. S2E21

As they were sitting there, Pan behind her with her between his legs he was bringing up her hands, turning them up and comparing the size of his hands next to hers, then putting his hands at the back of hers and lacing their fingers together, closing their hands.

Harriet watched what he did curiously – finding no point in it.

His head was over her shoulder, and he looked for her reaction as he did this.

He stopped and put their hands down together, stilling them, still holding her hands in his.

"You know, Pan, you assured me that you were mine, yet I am terrified of losing you," She told him musingly as she realized this, looking at him, then back to their hands and flexing them curiously, like it was all a new sensation. "I think this is supposed to have a romantic connotation – however, I find this purposeless. My hands… they have done things. They have been in dirt, been bloody, been… wet with water… My hands are practical things for getting around in the world. How does my hand holding to yours signify some sort of… bond?"

"I don't know." Pan said. "I've never thought about it like that before."

Harriet continued to look at her hands, saying cheerfully.

"The only reason I can think of to ever hold your hand is if I am dragging you somewhere,"

He licked his lips a second and pulled his hands away, just holding her now.

"I didn't mean stop." She said. He moved back around her and clutched her hands. "I said I found it useless – I didn't say stop." A beat of silence. "It clearly makes you happy. If you find happiness in a romantic notion that says our hands are meant to be holding each others', then we'll hold hands."

He just held her, feeling happiness and contentment in being around her. Chin on her shoulder.

There was a draft and she snuggled back into him and she somehow fit herself tighter against him. He stretched up a little and arched a little more against her to bring her closer. She fit against him like a jewel in a crown. The cave was silent and peaceful.

"Is this what lovers do?"

He sighed on top of her head.

"They can." He answered.

"…Thank you for answering my question." She said quietly. "Most people don't answer. Thank you for answering. When I know, because I don't know these things, it makes me feel safe and secure. Do you want to talk about the boyfriend and girlfriend concept? Proposed topic of conversation."

He hummed over her shoulder, trying to play this smart.

"Sure."

"What _is _it?"

"It's when a boy and a girl… they like each other enough, and no one else in the same way, to want to be together. Like a level of status."

"And it's a… self-declarative status?"

He thought.

"It's not like a law, or anything. It's not, we're in a relationship, its law. Or, part of a title, or –"

"That's marriage, I believe."

"I see."

"And boyfriend and girlfriend is a step below that."

"Mmhm." She hummed, her tone showing she was eager to learn and listening.

Pan wasn't sure how to continue explaining. He'd never thought of it like this before.

"And… what's the point? Why do it, I mean? What's the reason?"

"Well…" He began, trying to think on how to explain this, sighing again on her hair. "You only become boyfriend and girlfriend if you have special feelings for one another, as in, different to how you feel about anyone else,"

She turned her head on his chest.

"But I feel differently about you than to Tinker Bell, for example. And to Hook. I feel about all of you differently."

"Okay, good. How so?"

"You mean describe them? Well, Tinker Bell is my friend, and Hook is someone I'm intrigued by. I don't and can't understand him. And then there's you."

His back straightened a little.

"'And then there's me?'" He repeated.

"You look offended," She said, her voice soft throughout the time of explaining her feelings. "You're in a category of your own. I don't know how to place you." She looked at the other end of the cave. "You're in a box no other is in, if you know what I mean. If you understand what I'm saying, I mean. You're Pan. There's no one else like that."

His heart pounded in his chest and he felt butterflies.

"…Are you trying to tell me something, Harriet?"

She looked at him.

"Why would I try to tell you something instead of just doing it?" She asked with genuine curiosity in her eyes. His jaw clicked shut and his back slackened a little in disappointment.

You know what – no. She was like this. This is the way Harriet was. She was never anyone else but herself. And this was the way she genuinely thought, he thought. He'd come so far, she was right here, opening up to him, and they were even _talking _about their feelings and his momentary disappointment wasn't something to stop everything for.

Harriet looked ahead at the other side of the cave, wondering why he was wondering if she would tell him something. Talk about blind siding her with random questions. This moment could go in 'the diary' of confusing things. But she couldn't foresee a moment tonight where he would leave her presence and she could cry. After all, dinner had just happened and they were going to go to sleep. She hoped she wouldn't cry in her sleep.

"So, what else, Pan? Tell me more."

He settled around her more comfortably.

"Are we boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"Uh, no. It's something the boy asks and the girl either says yes or says no."

"Oh. Okay. Are you going to ask me?"

Pan leaned his head back.

"Harriet, let me explain,"

"Okay." She agreed.

He sighed for patience.

"Like I've said before, it only happens when the boy and girl have the same feelings for each other,"

"How do you measure that?"

"…Well, you can start by describing what you feel when you see the person."

"When I see Felix I think of an onion. He has layers – his hood, then his hair, then his cloak and then his shirt, and then that extra shirt underneath he thinks no one knows about. He stinks, and he makes you cry."

"I – what? He's made you cry?"

"More than once. He's the man of riddles." She looked up at him. "An onion."

Pan was looking at her with an open mouth and furrowed brows and she averted her eyes so she wouldn't feel like she was going to be swallowed whole by the hole above his chin (his mouth) and the caterpillars for his eyebrows wouldn't wiggle in her mind for days.

Then she looked at him when he wouldn't stop.

"Sup?"

Harriet blinked rapidly and then got a good idea.

Oh my goodness, would he like it? She thought.

* * *

She invited him to sleep on the cot of furs. With her.

It was a beautifully intimate space, and she invited him there! Would he be honored? Would he appreciate it? Would he cry like Felix made her cry? Oh if that happened, if he was confused, she'd rush in and save his feelings like a good girlfriend-non-girlfriend would. Or whatever she was. She was his and he was hers. That was all that mattered.

Pan sighed as he laid back in the furs. Harriet waited in the wings, waiting for signs of appreciation or adoration from him.

He turned his head, noticing she was looking at him, and thought she was waiting for some sort of invitation and opened his arm so she could move closer.

She looked at his extended arm then back to him.

"Is it comfy?" She asked. He pulled his arm away to scratch his hair awkwardly.

"Yeah."

"Cool. Are you mine, now?"

He adjusted his head, intrigued.

"What?"

Harriet turned around slowly and sat on the edge of the furs in a slowness that marked she was trying to understand this. That was a no, right? She felt profound disappointment. She wanted him to be hers. She pulled her knees to her chest, looking ahead.

He sat up on his elbow.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

She quickly collapsed into the furs, eclipsing them over her and snuggling into the pillow to fall asleep, a rock in her chest. Not literally.

"Harriet, come here."

"Go away."

He sighed, and rubbed his face.

"I can tell I've upset you." He said, looking at the back of her head. "What's wrong?"

"I invited you into my bed, which took FOREVER to make by the way, and you just lie there like it isn't a big deal!"

"What, no! It's a big deal, it's a very big deal," He nudged all the way over to her, hand on her arm. She turned around, tears in her eyes.

She sat up. And burst out crying, curling into a ball with the backs of her fingers on her eyes. He got up immediately and surrounded her with his arms and his body.

"It's not just that. It's this entire night. We've been talking about things that make me uncertain – very uncertain, and I still feel like I don't understand, and they make me feel unsafe… And then I wanted to show you some love and some positivity, because I'm aware I'm different, and I can be a bit… missing of cues sometimes. And that makes people disappointed. So I wanted to show you you _do_ matter to me and you _are _important to me yet you lie there like it's nothing!" She made all the little noises of weeping and crying.

"No no no no, hush, Harriet," Pan soothed, curling around her more. He rubbed her shoulder and arm strongly. "I _did _notice it and it was very beautiful, thank you. I appreciate it so much, because I feel close to you."

"Well yeah – you're lying right next to me!"

"I _feel _important to you," He swallowed, hoping she wouldn't reject him.

"…Oh, good." She stopped crying. Sniffed.

He pulled away from her a little to see her wiping her eyes. Found it odd it was over so quickly. Didn't understand women.

"Do you feel better now?"

"Yes," She replied in her normal tone, like everything was fine. She wiped her face once more, giving him eye contact. She looked at his face and felt warmth in her heart. Then she moved him aside so she could lie down and snuggle into a comfortable position. Pan followed after her.

The wind whistled outside as the fire went out. It was pitch black.

"What I meant was, if you _felt _important to me, you were mine."

His fingers came up in the dark and found her face. They moved up and stroked from her temple to her lower cheek.

"I feel it."

"Good."

* * *

The wind howled past the mountain and the two inside the cave were snuggled in warmth, laying entwined.

* * *

Pan walked up the slope of the mountain with Harriet following behind him. It was pure white, the landscape covered in snow. Pan was a magical being and he had great prowess to be able to procure this overnight. Neverland had never really had a mountain before, nor snow. But now was always the perfect time, wasn't it? Pan thought. 'Now' was all Neverland had, no past or future. Just the eternal present.

"What else do boyfriends and girlfriends do, Pan?" She rushed past him and jumped up and down in the serene blanket, so that the snow went everywhere. He chuckled, still walking.

"They hold hands, kiss, hug."

"But we do all those things already! Are we not boyfriend and girlfriend?"

He chuckled again when snow got near him and he put up a hand to shield it away from him.

"No, one has to ask the other."

Harriet stopped in the snow and he could tell by the lack of crunching.

"So wait, you can do those things _without _being boyfriend or girlfriend?"

"Yes." He shielded his eyes from the bright glare and stopped, looking around for something. She rushed forward after him and held his hand. He looked at her and smiled, before resuming his searching.

"There's a… hot springs, around here."

When he marched forward through the snow she immediately followed with him. The expanse of the mountain was so large they were dwarfed by it like ants. They moved over a slope that resembled a sand dune and there was a bubbling pool of water beneath them, hidden away into the side of the mountain.

"Wow!" She exclaimed in amazement. He smiled at her.

"Imagination does wonders." He drawled. He let her go as she ran over to inspect it in a crouch. "It's for you." He said from next to her as she poked her hands in the water then drew it out when it was warm.

"For _me_?" She said excitedly. "I didn't know you could do that!"

He chuckled at the excitement on her face. She jumped up and ran around to hug him.

"I love you, Pan!"

She pulled away and went to inspect the water again. He was quiet for a while, just looking at her, in thought. Then he seemed elated, and he treated her to a whole day out seeing the sights and checking out the mountain.

By the time dinner arrived they were back at the mountain in the blink of an eye thanks to Pan and there was dinner cooking on the fire, thanks to Pan.

When dinner was over and it was after he'd made music, things quietened down into a simmer.

"Harriet… did you mean what you said today? When one says 'I love you' they mean it from their heart. It means,"

"I know what it means," She said. "It means warmth when you see someone. It means feeling deeply for them in the heart. I care about you and I love you. And I did mean it. I thought it was obvious too – I spend all of my time around you when it's free, I tolerate your presence, I invite you willingly to have further time together, I even let you eat with me when I'm eating. What part of that does not demonstrate it? I feel the warmth in my heart. I know I love you. It has not been new knowledge to me for a long time."

He stared at her in silence for a few beats.

"Then why didn't you say anything?"

"I thought it was obvious." She replied. "But I won't repeat what I've just said. … I had no idea we had to talk about my feelings. Besides, why would you want to know? It shouldn't affect anything. You still live, you still breathe."

"…"

"I am always concerned with your welfare and your happiness. I can love you without needing you to love me back. I simply care that you're okay. If you want me to affirm it more often, I can." She looked to him. He looked down and fiddled with his flute.

"Will you be my girlfriend, Harriet?" He asked without looking up.

She stared at him for a long time.

"No. I still don't know what being a girlfriend means. Therefore, I should not enter into doing it if I don't even know what it's all about."

"I can show you."

"Cha! I _asked _you what they do and you were all 'hugging, kissing, holding hands' like that's supposed to mean something or it's a full, detailed job description. That means nothing! It doesn't actually describe _anything_! I hugged and kissed the Lost Boys, for example! Doesn't make any of them my boyfriend, or I, their girlfriend! I was their _mother, _so how does that description imply anything?"

He got up and the next second he was in front of her. He put his hand around her back and passionately kissed her. She wondered how they went from talking about something intellectual to his kissing her. He was crazy. She did not understand his thought process at all.


	48. S2E22

Just a quick author's note - no one has mentioned it, so I'm not sure anybody saw it. It was very difficult to see, so I changed something so it would be more visible. I think maybe people thought it was an author's note and skipped it, even though it was one line. I'm only pointing it out because no one has mentioned it, maybe some of you have. But in 44. S2E18 (chapter 44 - S2E18) there is something in there that's very important and I want you to go back and read it again if it doesn't come to mind.

A note - my story can't just be skimmed through if one wants to know what is going on. Each word has to be taken in without skimming, if you want full understanding. You can skim if you want, but skimming will make the reader miss out on what's going on, and the subtleties and foreshadowing, etc. All the things that make a story enjoyable.

Additionally, I forgot to write this in an author note before, but I published 46. S2E20, then forgot to add one line to the document, then Fanfiction wouldn't let me 'manage stories' for two days (it gave me a Error Type 1), so everyone saw the chapter, without seeing it complete. It is pivotal to the plot that one reads that last scene in S2E20 with the bold line added. It's of paramount importance to the story. I noticed it right after I published it, but when I went back to replace/update chapter, Fanfiction gave me an error for two days and I couldn't replace it, or update any of my stories.

* * *

Harriet freaked at the sensitiveness of her own mouth and pulled back but he followed her, holding the back of her neck as he passionately kissed her over and over again. His grip didn't seem to want to let her go, she realized.

Pan groaned, "Harriet, you make me mad,"

She drove him mad, absolutely crazy. He didn't know high or low with her. He didn't know which way was left. He didn't know his own name.

Oh dear, if she was the cause of his craziness, should she go away from him? She wondered.

He didn't get to ravish her for long however, before he heard a gasp coming from the cave opening.

"Am I interrupting something?" asked Tinker Bell, not wanting to intrude. "I can leave, you know,"

Pan let Harriet go, reluctantly, and moved back.

"No, its fine, Tink. Come in."

Pan looked at Harriet and then distanced himself to the fire. Tinker Bell looked at the awkward situation and her lips thinned awkwardly.

"I got the water,"

She walked in and placed the water canteens on the ground near the supply corner.

* * *

"_Well?"_

"_Well what?"_

"_Well, what are you going to do now?"_

"_I can have my ship back. And my crew." Hook looked at the dirt ground next to his black boot. "I can leave Neverland as soon as Pan lets me."_

_Tinker Bell looked him over._

"_Well, safe journey then."_

"_Aye, you too. Safe, for being here, I mean."_

_Tinker Bell nodded._

* * *

Tinker Bell stood up, putting her hands on the back of her waist as she backed away to the exit.

"I think I'll go back to my hut for now,"

Pan nodded and so did Harriet.

"Goodbye Tinker Bell," She called in farewell. Tinker Bell waved over her shoulder.

Tinker Bell made it back to her hut and walked inside. Everything looked the same and yet everything looked different. She'd changed. After being up in the cave with Harriet for those few days, she'd changed, somehow.

She'd been wallowing, stuck here. Ever since she'd lost her magic she'd felt completely powerless and was living in Neverland essentially alone. But she could do something. She had power, here. There was _always _power.

* * *

"Well, I'll take my ship, my crew, and I'll be on my way." Hook said to Pan, who was standing across from him. They could look out to see from the little dirt rise, looking down the hillside over the trees to the beach.

"Why is everyone so eager to leave?" Pan jumped down off a log. "This is Neverland – the place of land, magic, where dreams come true."

"That may be," Hook countered diplomatically for once, drawing on his skills of persuasion as a pirate, a con-man, and ladies man, walking to the side as if in a circle around Pan. "But my purpose lies beyond here. I have to get my revenge,"

Pan's eyes went to Killian's hook.

"Ah, the Crocodile," Pan smirked, too walking around Hook and then taking a seat on a rock. "Well, I suppose I should let you go then. After all, you have completed your purpose, for the most hand."

Hook stopped. That wasn't good.

"For the most hand?"

If he didn't complete his purpose here, Pan would never let him go.

Pan shrugged nonchalantly in a way that Hook could definitely tell he was planning something but wasn't too bothered about Hook for now.

"Well, yeah," He stood. "But I'll let you go, for now. You're free to leave Neverland." He looked at the silver hook. "And that hook…" He looked at Killian's eyes. "Harriet gave it to you?"

Hook looked at him himself.

"Well, more forced it on me sort of."

Pan nodded. He began walking past Killian. When the pirate turned around, Peter was gone.

* * *

That's the end of Season 2 on 'Devils Don't Fly'. Hope you enjoyed it, more will be coming shortly as I update frequently, as my followers know. It has been such a pleasure to write this story :)


	49. Interlude 4

Thank you for the reviews! The alerts! The favorites! Aww thank you my two Guest reviewers, that made my day.

* * *

She's wondering down the paved road against the perimeter of a forest when a carriage rolls up with horses' shoes clacking as it did so.

"Stop the carriage," ordered Regina when she saw a lone, wondering girl outside.

The carriage stops long after the girl who is walking with her head down like the carriage isn't there. Regina sleekly opens the dark carriage door with a black gloved hand, an amethyst gemstone on the middle finger.

"Hello." She said pleasantly, her face framed with dark curls and a pretty hat. "Are you lost?"

The girl kept walking, completely ignoring the Queen. As she walked past her Regina's face turned into a snarl and by the time the girl was by the horses Regina's snarl was in full force and she stomped out the carriage.

"Answer me! Answer to your Queen!" Regina picked up her red skirts in her black gloves.

The girl stopped, but didn't turn around.

Queen?

_This land has changed so much. _She thought.

"These are my forests. How did you get in here?"

_walked._

The Evil Queen nearly became angry at the girl's insolent silence.

Regina's lips curled as she got an idea. She could have a plaything.

"Get inside." She held open her carriage door. "Obey your Queen, subject."

* * *

Harriet returned to her territory and looked up at her tree house from the ground with a hand on her hip.

* * *

Pan smirked at his Lost Boys as they danced around his campfire.

* * *

Tinker Bell looked out into the woods and sighed.

* * *

"You never told me what happened. With Hook – after you threw him in Dark Hollow." Tinker Bell knew about the promise Harriet had given Hook – if he could make it out her territory, he'd be for Pan to decide what to do with, and if he didn't, she would decide what to do with him still. But she didn't know the outcome.

"Hook never made it out, too petrified by his own darkness and fears. But I changed my mind, and handed him over to Pan. He really wanted him and I didn't." She hadn't had a purpose for him anymore. He didn't know where it was. "So I handed him over. Then Pan did whatever he did with him, who knows,"

Tinker Bell looked down mutely.

"His ship has left Neverland,"

Harriet turned around from where she was sewing something in her clothes, put it down and walked over the threshold of her living room, ducking under a branch that she'd had to build around and sat down at the little tea table opposite Tinker Bell, just staring at her.

"He'll probably be back." Harriet said with a blink.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Well it's highly probable. Someone like that who runs from the law, and does dirty work, eventually they are unwilling workers. They can't pick and choose who they work with – it's only who's there. Pan's deal worked for him for some time. Pan let him go. Pan's never going to go away, so it's likely that Hook will be back."

Tinker Bell looked at the tea in the little tea cup in front of her. Hook had been the only friend she'd had on the island, before Harriet. At least she had Harriet, otherwise she would be alone again.

"If you say so."

"I do," chirped Harriet, pouring some more tea for her from a china teapot. Because she thought Tinker Bell's statement was literal.

"And… you bombed the ship, why exactly?" asked Tinker Bell. She hadn't really known the reason.

"Oh, I just wanted to do that." She sipped from her china tea cup.

"_What_?"

"He didn't have what I needed. And I wanted him to be marooned on the island so he couldn't escape. Thus, the explosion."

"…Oh..."

"What?"

"The way you said it made it sound like you just wanted to do it for no reason."

"Kay."

* * *

She would rather Tinker Bell believe she had done it for that reason than the real reason – she had just wanted to. She wished Tinker Bell was more intelligent – she herself said that nothing happens on Neverland without Pan giving permission, so Hook wouldn't have left Neverland without Pan's permission. So it had been unnecessary to blow his ship. But Harriet had wanted to do it. She wanted to see what it was like. It wasn't planned, it was an impulse. It was only right after Tinker Bell mentioned an emotional attachment to Hook that the impulse arrived. She got the idea, and she went through with it. She quite honestly forgot that there would be consequences. Which is why she felt panic for the first time in a while, and quickly gathered her things and took Tinker Bell and herself to safety. On the other hand, she was happy that Tinker Bell was not as intelligent as she wished her to be, otherwise she wouldn't be able to do these kinds of things without being caught. Even if she was caught, she still wouldn't care if Tinker Bell's emotions were hurt over it. What did she have to be hurt about anyway? It was irrational to be upset. It was just a boat. No one got hurt. She knew there would be no consequences because there was no law on Neverland than Pan's law. She knew he wouldn't be upset, so she went through with it. She'd gotten what she wanted.

* * *

Do not take Harriet's thinking like you can just do whatever you want, kiddies. You live in a society where there are consequences for everything and rules and laws for everything. If you break them, you have to do the punishment for it. Harriet, in this example, knows that in Neverland there are no laws and it's only Pan's word that decides anything. So she knows, because she calculated in this instance, that she can go through with blowing Hook's ship up because a, it wasn't banned, b, Neverland is a land of magic and he could either get it back himself, or go through Pan. So that's it. It is not something to copy or adopt in our world.


	50. Interlude 5

Harriet was at Pan's camp with the Lost Boys. The evening was overhead and the bon fire was roaring. Harriet was laughing as she caught up with everyone. Pan came over and she excused herself to talk to another pocket of standing boys.

Just as she passed a log Felix called out from where he was sitting, alone, in the celebrations, slowly sharpening a stick into a spear.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you,"

She stopped, and took a step back to face Felix. His hood was up, as usual, but his straw blonde hair fell out the front of his hood slightly. He was the only seated one of the bunch.

"Avoid him. You might hurt him."

"Hurt him? With what? A knife?" She checked her pockets. "I don't have a knife,"

Felix interrupted strongly yet somehow patiently,

"I'm just saying. Would not be wise."

When Pan came over she moved away to another group.

The fire had gone out and all the Boys were in bed. Harriet was the only one out and that was when Pan cornered her.

"Why are you avoiding me?"

"What? I thought since you said, 'you make me crazy', that if I went away, it would stop. If you remove the cause, the symptoms should stop, right?" She said, arms folded, slightly turning away from him with bugged out eyes, trying to understand what part of that logic was wrong, because apparently it was because he'd asked her why she was doing it.

He just stared at her. She looked up at him, leaning away. Was that look good or bad?

He took a step forward and wrapped his arms around her back, sighing into her hair. She blinked against his shoulder. She felt a hand on her hair.

"I thought you changed your mind." They both pulled away.

"About what? About which spices to put in dinner? No, I maintain the ones I said."

"Harriet, you're dense."

"No I'm not. Oh wait, yes I am. Human bones are not like bird bones – they aren't hollow. Not lightweight. Which is why we can't fly. So I am dense. And so are you."

Pan suddenly grinned like he had an idea.

"I can fly."

"Poppycock."

"I can. And I'll show you."

* * *

Pan was grinning.

"Come on, it won't hurt you." He was pulling on her sleeve but she wasn't moving forward. She was looking at the edge of the cliff. Eventually she walked forward with him. He took her hand and pulled out a vial necklace he had from under his shirt, holding it. He was holding her hand.

"Pixie dust. It'll allow us to fly."

She looked up at him.

"Did you give any to Tink? Then she could fly again."

He took her hand.

"Let's not talk about that now. For now, we're flying. You only have to believe."

"Believe in what? Elephants? Clouds? Rain? Pie?"

"Flying."

"Oh, okay."

She peeked at him, standing to her right.

"You just had to be specific," She said in a small voice.

He held her hand more strongly.

"Okay, on three – one, two, three!"

And they were in the air. Golden light surrounded the two of them and they flew up into the fly, holding hands.

The wind rustled their hair and clothes, both lying horizontally in the air as they over Neverland. Harriet looked over the beautiful land, thinking about different ways to combine words and individual letters to make new ones, and just enjoying the peace and serenity of the ceiling. She thought this was nice.

Pan looked at her, then down to Neverland. She looked at him. He was looking at the realm below them, the wind rustling his hair. She smiled then looked down at everything herself. She was reminded by his broad shoulders, his chin and Adam's apple that he was a boy. A very attractive boy. She sighed to herself. Oh dear, she liked his geometry. She would never be letting him go now.

She thought about how they were flying. She enjoyed it immensely. She smiled, swerving to the left with Pan. He looked abruptly at her, but then seeing the smile on her face brought one to his own, and he took them to the right. She laughed.


	51. Interlude 6

"She doesn't even speak," boasted Regina.

Harriet looked up from where she sat reading on the carpet, surrounded by large texts, at Regina, the Evil Queen, who was talking to the mirror on the wall.

She didn't even know what she did to the last Queen she met here.


	52. S3E1

Season three has begun!

* * *

Harriet sat on a rock with her pants rolled up to her knees while she mended her net. Her feet were dusted in sand from the beach. Pan sat on another rock, surveying her.

She cast the net out into the rolling ocean and waited until it sank into the depths.

She pulled out her catch in her net, a few fish escaping from a deliberate hole in the corner, but the rest wiggled in the air.

"Thank you for this bounty."

She sat on the beach with her catch and her knife, his eyes following every move.

When she looked up at him he looked away.

* * *

Harriet spent time developing her territory. She set her traps that hadn't been completely finished before, she set out to mark the borders. She developed her tree house. It was steady and slow, every day a contribution. The shadows kept around her parts, and Shadow would visit at varying intervals. They would mostly have brief conversations, but it was enough for the both of them.

When she'd met the Shadow, she'd been setting traps through her part of the forest. This land had a tendency to bring in new people every day and she never wanted them wandering to her parts, unless they were a shadow and they were welcome. The shadows knew that.

Pan visited her often, and she visited the Lost Boys and him often. They took turns. It was always impromptu visits, but they were enjoyable nevertheless. There were new additions to the Lost Boys as time went on, and that was the only way of knowing time continued, other than day and night. The Lost Boys used to keep track of time on the tree bark of their domicile but they said that Pan banned it. They were here to live forever in the moment, not count the ticking days.

The voice wouldn't shut up. It was driving her crazy. Her trips to the hidden lake, deep in the mountain, weren't making her tranquil anymore. She kept up her visits to the water because she needed to.

She needed to find that thing before she could ever feel free.

* * *

It was another night in the cave in the mountain. Harriet was sitting against the cave wall and Pan by the fire. He was distracted tonight. Finally, he spoke.

"I'm bringing some people to the island."

She looked over at him slowly.

"Good for you."

"They're not the sort to get yourself entangled with. I want you stay away from them. If you can." She looked up at him. She slowly looked back down to her thighs at nothing in particular. "As long as they don't trespass on my territory, get in my way, or mess with my things, I'm fine. I'll leave them alone if they leave me alone."

She sharply looked at him.

"Or if they have what is mine."

"They don't have it, Harriet."

"How do you know?"

"I plan these things."

She looked away with a scoff.

"You probably have it for all I know."

* * *

Tinker Bell heard something in her sleep and she sat up in her cot with a knife in her hand, looking into the darkness of her hut. She then saw a crouching figure and let out a noise of fright, swiping the dagger their way.

"Tink, it's just me."

Tinker Bell sighed and lowered her dagger. Harriet moved forward so her face was in the moonlight. Tinker Bell gasped at the sight of her. On her face, her neck, there looked to be… something looking like… scales, on her skin. They were faint, but it was noticeable to Tinker Bell. She sat up more slowly.

"I need your help."

"Well, what is it?"

"I need to find something that'll give me my sanity back."

Tinker Bell nodded gravelly.

"It was a joke. But seriously, I need to know what you know of about some treasure."

"Well be more specific – "

"Well it's a special treasure. When someone like me is born they are given treasure that is theirs. Their soul bonds to it. If they are ever separated, she searches until she finds it again. And only until then does she find peace."

"Treasure – I, I've never heard of anything that could do that." Tinker Bell suddenly gasped. Harriet just kept looking at her and through her. "That's why you needed Hook!" Harriet sighed and her face turned away, out of the moonlight but her neck was still partially visible in it. "He's a pirate – he may have it!"

"He's a very notorious pirate – he may have come across it," Harriet corrected her to her own version of thoughts. "But he didn't know what I was talking about. I didn't know if he was lying, but his heart throbbed every time he said it, so I assumed it wasn't lying."

Tinker Bell didn't know how Harriet would know his heart would do that, but she didn't ask.

Harriet looked at Tinker Bell. Tinker Bell had another chance to view the scales that were only over the one side of her face, the one in the moonlight, on her cheek, her temple, her neck, while the other half remained pale and fleshy. The scales were grey, and in an unusual way, beautiful.

"Please, Tinker Bell. I am incomplete without my treasure."

"Okay, well, I did work under the Blue Fairy, and she knows all when it comes to magic." Tinker Bell thought hard but didn't come up with anything. "She never told us anything about it. At the time I was just a fairy, I was a worker and I wasn't high enough to know anything of real importance." Tinker Bell shrugged with a hesitant, shy smile, hugging her knees. "I just spread fairy dust. Granted wishes."

"No one ever granted my wishes," Harriet said in a small voice. She looked down at her hands. She didn't blame Tinker Bell. She wasn't angry. It was just a fact.

Tinker Bell shook her head without comprehension.

"But if you wished, you should have been answered,"

Harriet grinned and chuckled slightly, using her thumb nail to scratch the edge of her brow.

She stood using one hand on her knee.

"Its time. I shed my scales once a month." She turned to where the door was, her dark cloak dusting the floor. She said the statement like that explained everything and then disappeared.


	53. S3E2

Harriet watched Pan from across the fire as he sat there with his arms loosely around his knees. He was doing nothing in particular, the fire light flickering on his front. She felt something dark and intense take hold of her heart, and burn there in her chest. She was up and over to him, crouching. Taking hold of his collar, and kissed him. He closed his eyes. She pulled away and let go of his collar, staring into his eyes.

"Just wanted to do that." She stood and walked back to her spot, and realized she honestly had nothing to do. They were just spending the night together. She usually had a task. But she had laid out tonight to relax. She went to the cot and gingerly took a seat on her half, before laying back with her arms behind her head, staring at the ceiling.

She sensed Pan come closer to the cot. She looked at him as he sat down with her.

"Pan and Harriet makes fifty six." She said gently, sleepily. If fifty six made five and six, "Five and six is eleven. Eleven makes one plus one, which is two. We are two people." She turned slowly onto her side, her head on her arm, just watching him as he watched her. "Pan is 7-1-5. Thirteen. My favorite number." She smiled shyly. "That has to be destiny, mustn't it?"

He slowly lay down next to her, his head level with hers as he looked into her eyes.

"How do you make that?"

"If the alphabet is split into rows of nine, and each letter has a numerical value. Add them up, they have significance." She gently explained.

"Will you be my girlfriend, Harriet?"

There was a slow silence. He was unable to look away from the beautiful creature on the cot lying just slightly below him, just twitching gorgeously slightly with the firelight cast on her.

She slowly nodded.

"Sure."

* * *

"Oh I'm much older than you are,"

Much older than she was? Usually, Nana's were much older than children.

The girl looked excited on her chair.

"So that means you're my Nana?"

The woman looked surprised for a second.

"Sure, I guess I am," She smiled warmly.

The girl nodded decidedly.

"Then it's decided."

* * *

"You cook a lot."

"Well I have all these pots and pans, I have to make use for them!"

"I don't have the stomach to eat all of this."

A laugh.

* * *

"Can I kiss you goodnight, Harriet?" The fire was dying out and they were both in the bed of furs, Harriet staring up at the ceiling.

She turned her head and he leaned over, only shaking a little, and kissed her lips. He pulled away and she looked at the ceiling.

"Night, Pan. Thirteen. One, two, three."

He chuckled.

* * *

Just to clarify, if anyone ever knows the practice of Numerology - where there all the numbers in the universe boil down to 1 to 9 that each hold an essence, a value, like 1 has the essence of leadership and 2 of partnerships, 3 of creativity, etc. I'll explain the part about all the numbers boiling down to these nine. Our names are made up of the alphabet, which if divided into nine, each letter has a value. When we add up the numbers in our name and we get a number like for example 43. 43 becomes 4 + 3, which equals 7, and your name in this case would have the essence of 7. This is the traditional practice.

That is not what Harriet is doing. Harriet is taking the adding up of the numbers like done in Numerology here, but she is making her own conclusions. This is for anyone who knows Numerology and gets confused by what I was doing here with Harriet, or in the future if anyone comes across Numerology and then just thinks, 'oh, it's what that one girl did in that one story' and then believe it's that. It's not, haha.

To explain all the numbers boiling down to these nine in this practice (if that's the right word to call it?), things like 43 would then become, 4 plus 3, which then makes 7, and then that is one of the nine. And if you have a number like 59, and 5 + 9 = 13, you then add 1 and 3, to make 4. And it's written 59/4, because the original number is 59, then it reduces to 4. Just a tidbit :P


	54. S3E3

Thank you for all the reviews! :D

* * *

Pan was laying on his back on the cot and Harriet moved across the furs over to him. She stared at him gently, then stroked his face because she thought he might like the affection.

"My earliest memories, Pan… they are of darkness, and water. Then I remember being taken by bandits along with my mother." She slowly rotated, lowered her body, and then lay down near him. He put up a hand and held her lower arm that was still on his cheek.

"You don't have to tell me this if you don't want to." He said. Memories were precious, as were things close to the heart. Sometimes, they overlapped.

"Hm." Harriet said thoughtfully, pulling her hand away and staring at the cave ceiling. "I thought you would want to know. You're my courtier now. Isn't that what a boyfriend also translates to?"

He turned his head to her.

"No. That is for the King or Queen. Boyfriend or girlfriend is to anyone."

"Oh."

He moved his arm and took her hand.

"But you are my Queen." He gazed at her earnestly.

She rolled her head to look over at him, thinking that her instinct to say 'thanks' in this situation would be rude.

"So does that mean you're my courtier? Please."

He chuckled.

"Okay."

"Okay." She looked at the ceiling again then started a new topic. "Because I'm thinking that perhaps you didn't know, you remember that time when I put you down on your bed and I inspected you?"

He thought for a minute. Oh yes, that time when she'd hit his pressure point and then proceeded to ruffle his hair and move his arms around, for what he never knew.

"I was categorizing you, Pots and Pans. It's the same thing I do for anyone or anything that comes into my life that is going to stay there for a long time. I can usually just do it visually, take stock and inventory, but with you I couldn't because your stitches were not visible, like at all, and I wanted a tactile account of who you were and what you had."

His eyes zoomed about the ceiling as he processed that, their hands still joined.

"I see."

Harriet blinked and her eyes became glassy and her voice soft.

"Will you shut up?"

He looked over at her.

"I didn't say anything."

He looked over at her.

"Oh, I wasn't talking to you."

He looked at the ceiling.

"Oh."

She kept gazing at the ceiling.

"Do you think we'll mate one day?"

Pan sharply looked at her in the corner of his eye, before swallowing and shifting.

"Because a side of me seems to be very worried about that."

He was utterly speechless, his throat not working, but he stroked her hand with his thumb.

She rolled over onto her side, letting go of his hand, and snuggled the side of her face into her pillow, stroking the furs right in front of her, her mind already thinking about something else. Fur. FUR – 6-3-9, the combination of which makes 18 –

"It'll happen one day, I think." He said, looking at her face. "If you want."

She shrugged, playing with the fur. 18 makes 9, which was endings. Well, the animals were ended to get the furs…

Harriet blinked and then turned on her other side because her other side was hurting. She sighed because she had a big breath – she just had those sometimes. It felt so good to breathe, to be able to do that healthfully and without obstruction. She loved it.

"Harriet," She felt a hand take her arm and she 'aah'ed, unused to it yet. Pan reflectively pulled his hand away just a smidge, then he laid it back on her arm again when she relaxed. "Did I offend you?"

"No. With what?"

He looked into her eyes with some hesitance in his shoulders. Then when he saw she was normal he pulled away and laid on his back. He got under the furs, sighing and pulled up behind her back, putting his arm around her waist.

"Are we going to sleep?" She asked. The fire was still on and it wasn't even near the early morning when she fell asleep – right after the day ended.

He remained silent behind her.

"Pan?" She turned around in small smidges under the furs and she looked at him. His eyes were closed but he opened them to look at her, a furrow in his brow. She saw this and leaned forward to lay against his chest, giving him comfort, holding his shirt. She was so small when she huddled into him like that. He sighed and pulled the furs around her more and brought both his arms around her.

"Are you okay?" She asked quietly. His chin was on her head.

"I'm just thinking." He closed his eyes.

He kissed her head and pulled her closer.

"After the bandits… what happened?" He wanted to know more about her life. He couldn't find it out of anyone else. Only she knew the story, and was able to tell him.

"I went to the Kingdom's Capitol. I killed the Queen, then I traveled to the palace posing as a young maiden in hopes of winning His Highness's heart." She stroked Pan's chest where his heart would be.

He laid his cheek on her head.

"And the bandits? What of them?"

"What of them?"

He said darkly,

"What was their fate, for soiling both your mother and yourself."

"It was just my mother. They were killed."

"I see." He said. He lowered his head to look at her. "I'm sorry I didn't do it."

She blinked at him.

"It was a long time ago. Before you were born."

He scoffed and chuckled.

"You are that old?"

She blinked at him with some indescribable emotion in her eyes like he didn't know anything.

"Yes. Older." She pulled away from him and turned on her other side, pulling the furs over her shoulder. "It was so long ago I only remember the significant parts. And you know my memory."

He followed after her, his hand holding his head up.

"Do you remember when we met? In that forest of the Dark Witches?"

Her eyes rotated around before she rolled onto her back, looking up at him with a confused,

"No."

He chuckled.

"I can't believe you don't remember. So I was not a significant part?"

"If I forgot I must have been focusing on something else really – very, strongly, to forget you. I don't forget faces."

"But I do remember going into that forest, not knowing what it was. And I faced danger every single part of the way. By the time I got out into the neutral woods, I met this boy –" She turned to him, gasping and sitting up. "That was _you_?"

He stroked her face.

"You haven't aged a day since then."

"Weird."

He didn't want to talk anymore about himself so he turned onto his back, withdrawn. He didn't want any questions about his past. He'd been just a boy then. He'd been in Neverland so long now that he could well have lived his other life out completely and died, if he had not chosen to pursue immortality.

He looked at Harriet.

* * *

So that's Episode 3 of Season 3! :)


	55. S3E4

The firelight burned as she stared into it, a strange gleam in her eye.

"The bandits worked for the Queen. They'd committed many crimes in the kingdom and to save themselves from execution, they sold her a priceless treasure they had just come into. It was a treasure like none other, one that dragons and kings would covet with the utmost ferocity. The Queen knew this, and hid it with her three fallen angels, told them to guard it. They did so – out of their captivity to which they had been tricked, they had to do her bidding. The King killed his Queen to possess this treasure, and the angels. Sometimes, I killed the Queen, in the stories. I don't remember. I dream so many times of the many different ways it happened. But I think he did. I remember that it all came out after the illusion of his kingdom fell. He declared it a condition of the heart – which the Queen had been known to suffer from. 'Distraught', he ordered himself a new wife be found. Women flocked from all over the kingdom in hopes to capture his heart, and I used this as an excuse to get close to him. He was won over by a woman not of noble birth, moi – " She chuckled. "And I got to enter his palace. That night, I found where he kept his angels, and my treasure. I took it back, but the angels I did not expect. They found their captivity cruel, they'd said. They came down from heaven to give the wisdom to the people. They were told by the Queen she would help them do just that, but she imprisoned them instead and kept their knowledge to herself, giving herself beauty and riches and enriching the kingdom with soiled and unsound power so that the beacon city she'd married into would shine above all the others, and it did. They wanted out, but couldn't leave unless death found them. That was the condition of their imprisonment. The Queen laughed as she backed out the lavish, private gardens, that even death could not find them if no one knew where they were. Even though now the angels were closer to the ground and weaker, they were still immortal, and thus the only way out of their banishment was death. They still wanted to fulfill their mission and depart knowledge to the kingdom, so I helped them.

First I devoured them, - "

_**Tasty birdies**_

"And then wrote from their essence in their blood all the knowledge they had upon the divine temples all over the kingdom for the people to see. The people were outraged that so much had been kept from them, so much built on a lie, a fabrication, that they wanted blood and they wanted someone to pay."

"Did they?"

She turned around to face Pan. She smiled.

"I left. I was complete in that world. I had nothing left for me. I had that which I had lost." She chuckled, turning back to the fire to stare into it. "But the king was so outraged at losing the control he had on the people that he got a witch to curse me. She separated me from my treasure. I've been looking for it ever since." She poked the fire with a stick and embers crackled into the air. She put the poker down. "That was the only reason I left, the bandits. They had both my mother and my own treasures, so we had to stay. But when they gave it away, I left to find it."

"What of your mother?"

"She died, probably." She shrugged uncaringly. She turned her head sharply away from him, hissing, "Will you be quiet?"

_**Never had a courtier before… Maybe we should test him out.**_

Harriet shook her head and poked the fire, silent from then on.


	56. S3E5

It was only a matter of time, really, before Pan summoned him to the island again.

"What do you want, Pan?" Hook said.

"What, am I taking you from your plundering and escapes with women?"

Hook looked at Pan as the boy moved to the left.

"Yes, actually." Hook said frankly.

"I need one more thing from you before I release you completely."

"And what is that?" He smiled sardonically. Pan turned to him.

"But first. A question." Hook nearly rolled his eyes. "How is the hook coming along?"

Hook looked at his silver hook then away disdainfully.

"It's noticed wherever I go. The moniker 'Hook' has spread like wildfire." Pan had walked over to him and smiled in his face.

"Excellent." He turned around and walked backwards with his hands out. "I need you to retrieve something for me."

"I hope it won't attack me and escape like last time."

"No. This thing is far more docile, and will be much easier to collect than Harriet."

"Name it."

Pan smiled.

* * *

The man cried out when he fell into the dirt on his stomach.

"His name's Smee," Pan's voice raised to address his Lost Boys. Pan's foot connected with his striped back as the man tried to get up and he fell back into the dirt with a whimper as Pan pulled out a knife. "And we're going to have a chat."

* * *

Tinker Bell weaved and swerved cautiously across Harriet's clearing, trying not to touch the shadows roaming there. Odd, they looked less like savage, hungry beasts that will steal all of your light and more like tame dogs curiously wandering around the place. Tinker Bell saw Harriet sitting at the wooden table on the ground and made her way towards her. It was funny, no one ventured into Harriet's territory because of the traps she'd set out, but this morning she felt called to her part of the island, and had marvelled at how easily her automatically moving legs crossed the boundary line.

Harriet somberly looked up at her when she heard her approach.

Tinker Bell came to a stop near her.

"Hook is on the island."

Tinker Bell's blue eyes lit up at the thought of her longtime ally and friend on the island.

"I didn't even see his ship, I –"

"Its so early in the morning. I know."

It was so early in the morning she hadn't even gone on her morning supply hunt.

"He'll be leaving soon. Just thought you would want to know."

Tinker Bell squee'd, then turned and dashed for the forest, not bothering to move out of the way of the shadows and running right through them with a grin on her face. At the sensation the floating ghosts looked confused then turned around to watch her go.

Harriet watched her leave.

_**Pretty birdy **_She thought.

* * *

In the above scene I just want to clarify so there's no confusion, Harriet has a small clearing around her tree house like Tinker Bell does around her hut. So that's what I meant by Harriet's clearing.


	57. S3E6

Thank you for the reviews, I'm glad you enjoy my story.

My computer crashed but I'm still able to work on my stories. As soon as it crashed I quickly wrote out this chapter and the last one from memory to get it posted today like I planned. Thankfully it was only two chapters.

Things of a sexual nature here in this chapter. Briefly descriptive, not explicit. Just a warning for anyone who wants to skip it, it's near the end.

* * *

Hook cried out and fell, a white cloud forming out of his unbroken head and being pulled by Harriet's hand. Hook fell to the floor in a slump, Harriet's hand surrounded by the glowing white cloud that she'd pulled from his temple.

Harriet opened her mouth and swallowed the vaporous cloud whole.

"That was tasty." She looked down at Hook. Pan appeared behind her out of the shadows.

"Well?"

"His memories of this encounter are gone. As well as his memories of the whole visit."

_**Yummy ~ **_the voice said in its usual growl, but one of delight.

"Good."

Pan was looking at Harriet as she looked down at Hook.

"It's such a shame," She said, toeing his limp body with her boot. "He was so after Milah it completely occupied his heart. I hope one day he'll be able to love again that deeply."

Pan was looking at Harriet, arms folded.

"Indeed."

* * *

Harriet climbed the rocks then disappeared behind the sheet of water. Pan looked up from where he was sharpening a spear, the disappearance like a tug on his senses, and he returned to sharpening his spear.

* * *

It was during the few days that Harriet left that gave them both space.

Pan said, as he told her after he cornered her afterwards, that he felt starved for her.

"…What?"

* * *

The fire made the cave warm and the light dim. Harriet lay on her back on the furs propped up by a few pillows with Pan between her legs.

* * *

As Harriet lay on her back another time, hair spread out, she raised an arm up nearby her head, upturned ot the cave ceiling and sighed. Pan was between her legs again.

"I was just thinking."

"Hm."

"About everything."

"Hm."

"Sometimes I just wonder about it all."

"No."

"Yes. I just… don't have a word for it…"

"Mm."

Harriet's eyes roamed the ceiling. "I don't know what I'm saying anymore."

He raised his head and licked his lips.

"It's funny, you don't understand relationships, but you understand this."

"That's because this is oral sex. I don't understand the dynamics of human relationships, but this, I understand."

He returned to between her thighs.

"Hm."

He spread her legs more in a quick motion and she moaned shortly, back arching.

* * *

When I read this over again, I realized it comes across like he 'hungers' for her as in the next scene that happens and the one right after, but because it looks that way I'm going to say he didn't mean it like that. There is a bit of a timeskip forward after that. There is supposed to be a sense of events moving onward in this chapter and the last one.

Because I'm not working on my laptop anymore if there are mistakes, point them out to me.


	58. S3E7

**_Mate pleasures us... _**the voice said as Harriet made dinner. **_What do you do for him?_**

Pan came back through the cave opening.

Harriet looked up.

"You're back!" She said excitedly, her hands happily patting her knees which were against her chest as she worked over the fire, bowls of ingredients on her left and right.

He walked into the cave.

**_Mate reeks of hormones... wishes to mate with us._**

He wordlessly crossed the threshold with several sticks in his left hand before he put them by Harriet's ingredients, the girl saying,

"You got more spices!" She marveled, picking them up and crushing them easily into the bubbling pot.

Pan really liked spices. When Harriet stayed at his camp he always put extra spice in his food until she caught on and added it to his bowl herself. Harriet didn't like spices too much, only for seasoning.

She picked up a wooden spoon and stirred the pot with two hands.

"I made it extra delicious tonight, Pan, I hope you're excited!" She banged the spoon on the lip of the pot - Pots and Pans! - to get the extra food off and put it down, wiping her hands of the steam onto her clothes, looking behind her at Pan who was laying down on the cot.

"Are you ready to eat?" She asked with a small smile on her face, waiting for his answer.

He smiled her way.

"It smells delicious." Her smile neutralized.

"...That wasn't an answer to my question."

She hopped up from her sitting on the cave floor and wobbled over, since her legs were weak from lack of circulation, and plopped down onto the cots. Her upper body playfully swayed, then she dropped down next to him.

"Hi, Pan."

They ate dinner quietly, the only sounds were the scooping of the spoons against the bowls.

She just happened to look up and the light of the fire on his face made him look heavenly.

**_I devour heavenly things._**

_Maybe Pan would like that? _She thought, before putting her spoon back into her food.

"It's delicious. Thank you." He said.

_He shouldn't say such things. Gets us riled. _Harriet thought. But didn't say it out loud. Because, you know, what would he think?


	59. S3E8

The woman standing in the jungle raised a disgusted lip as a fly got too near her face. She had no idea what she was doing here. Maybe this was some kind of dream. But she never had a dream quite this real.

"Are you lost?"

She turned around and there was a teenage boy there, in the ferns.

"You'd have to be, to reach Neverland." He said, raising a brow. Her first impression of him was a jerk.

She'd ask where she was, but that question was answered, so why she was here was next.

"Why are you here?" Pan guessed. "You're here to play a game."

Regina's lip snarled. What a brat.

"I'll tell you the rules," Pan began to circle her. "And you will play by my rules, or you'll never get home," Regina raised a brow. "And then if you amuse me, I'll send you on your way."

"Listen, _imp._" Regina spat, moving to take dominant control of the situation, not one to obey orders. She was a queen, after all, in another life. "I'm not playing any games," She poked his chest with a stabbing finger, the boy frowning at it but clearly not taking her seriously, and she stepped forward. "In fact, I'm not moving one inch until I wake up, _home_." To her minor surprise, and disappointment, he did not move back from her. Despite being what looked like the middle of teenagehood, he was as tall as her and aesthetically pleasing. He wouldn't move back. And for someone to do that to Regina, who easily inspired fear into the bravest of hearts, it made her begrudgingly hand over a small sliver of respect.

"Oh, you're very scary,"

Jerk.

"But this is my island," His face split into a grin as he chuckled. Then it sobered and the mocking demeanor was back. "Or did I forget to introduce myself? My name's Peter, Peter Pan."

* * *

"Oh. It's you."

Harriet was facing Regina from the bushes and Regina was in a dirt clearing. Upon seeing her former charge's face staring innocently back at her Regina tuttered.

"This must be one crazy dream I'm having," She rotated around a bit, before slyly commenting, "I've never dreamt of _you _before, slave girl." She lied.

If the name offended Harriet or brought up memories of her time with the Evil Queen there was no indication of it doing so. She just curiously watched Regina and when Regina finished her turn and saw her ex-charge was nonchalant she inwardly curled her lip in displeasure.

_degenerate_ slipped out in her mind before she could do anything to stop it.

"Well, I'm supposed to find a camp of a..." Regina batted her eyelashes. "Tinker Bell?" She folded her arms, lips pursed as she looked around her. "That boy gave me instructions but this doesn't match his description." She pulled her cheek at the lip like 'well that's typical'.

Harriet looked at Regina unerringly while she glanced around and talked, standing behind a large leaf that was as big as her body, her hands slipped over the top.

"Well," Harriet mused. "If you stay out here any longer, you'll be eaten by the shadows." She pulled away from the leaf and it turned out the leaf was taller than her, raising a little and bouncing in the air, and Harriet followed a path Regina hadn't previously seen. "This way."

* * *

Regina mouthed a silent 'wow' when she got to the scene. This definitely didn't match the description, but it was a thousand times better. It looked like a paradise. There was a beautiful lake, running water, the ground was soft, green, and the forest life was a beautiful color. There was a large, beautiful tree and in the tree was a tree house. Regina looked around before grinning.

"Well, whoever managed to find an oasis in this place really must be lucky."

Harriet sighed.

"The person who owns it is not here. I built it for her."

Regina looked over, but didn't ask. She stepped away from the young girl.

"This isn't the place." She said in displeasure, folding her arms and looking at a flower. "Where are we?"

"The master of this place is called Tigerlily," Harriet said lethargically, like she couldn't be bothered to talk about this. "This place is closer than Tinker Bell's hut. I don't know why Pan would send you this way. There are shadows everywhere."

"Shad - " Right as Regina questioned her previous ward, a shadow flew past her at blinding speed, just slightly knocking into her shoulder hard because the mayor of Storybrooke jumped back. Harriet smiled serenely.

"They can be a bit mischievous. Forgive them." Regina looked up and around and for the first time saw the swarm of shadows floating in the air above them, looking down. Harriet took Regina's arm which was dressed in blue garb.

"Forgive them. They don't often have visitors." Regina couldn't say anything as Harriet brought her forward into the clearing and to the stream, sitting her down.

Regina pushed a lock of hair out of her face, looking around.

"So this... Tigerlily. She won't mind that we're here?" Harriet was squinting from the sun as she looked out.

"No." She said tiredly.

"What is this... Tigerlily like?"

Harriet sighed.

"If Pan didn't tell you about her, then she isn't important to your knowledge." She looked at Regina in the corner of her eye. "Whatever you're here for."

"Hey, I don't know why I'm here. Pan said it was for some sort of game."

Harriet looked over at her disinterestedly and yet informatively,

"Only the Lost find this place. If you are indeed dreaming you wondered here yourself."

"Or maybe this 'Pan' brought me here."

Harriet shook her head, looking away.

"You have to ask before he can take you away. You have to wish to go away."

"Is that what happened to you? Is that how you left me?"

Harriet sighed.

"No," She sounded like she was answering a pestering mother. "There is so much you don't understand, Regina. It's just best not to question me."

"Well then, what _are _we doing here?"

"Here was closer. If I left you out there on your own you would be devoured by the shadows. We can't have that to happen. So I brought you here. Now, it depends. How long have you been lost, and how much rest do you need."

"Well that wouldn't be necessary if Pan let me keep my magic, but that's against the rules apparently." She grumbled under her breath. "I could just teleport there and be over with it."

Harriet looked away.

"You could."


	60. S3E9

Harriet climbed the rocks and disappeared behind the sheet of water. As always, she felt herself erased from Neverland and yet simultaneously, drawn closer to Neverland's core. Deep at the back of the cave behind the waterfall was a turquoise pool of water that she approached.

Outside the cave, the shadows, as always, followed a few distance miles behind Harriet's trail, always following her magical signature languidly. When she entered behind the curtain of water the trail abruptly cut off and the shadows screamed, abruptly cutting off into the forest, all going different directions. They wandered aimlessly all over Neverland, truly lost again, not understanding why or remembering the cause. All they knew was emptiness - and hunger. They were aching with the depth of their emptiness.

* * *

Pan noticed a disturbance from Neverland. He turned. The shadows... they were screaming.

* * *

He arrived at the clearing where they'd gathered, just a large swarm, moving in circles like a massive hurricane of dark cloaks, moving unceasingly in this clearing. Pan's eyes squinted a little as he tried to figure out what they were doing, what they had lost. Yes, he'd felt Harriet's disappearance as well. He found nothing out of the ordinary except that this was the place where Harriet often disappeared to. He knew he could not enter - magic would prevent him - so he stayed put.

* * *

Harriet took refuge in the cave. Her heat was upon her. Since Pan had started hanging around her more often, and she and her other side sensed there was a male that could match her magically, as well as being in a close proximity to be able to smell his pheromones whether she was conscious of it or not, every month at the time Harriet ovulated she went into heat. He was an available male, pumping pheromones by the way to her sense of smell - and, well, her other side had never picked someone she liked before. She was always whispering in her head, her name for Pan was 'Pretty Male', or 'Mate' - most often used since they both understood the meaning of girlfriend and boyfriend and that they were that to Pan, and he to them. Harriet liked to think of the two of them as one, but sometimes, when their opinion differed, it helped to think of herself as two separate minds. But the mind was hers, which she was always conscious of, which is why she never rejected it or shoved it away.

_Things have never been this difficult to deal with... emotions... there's never been so many at once... _Harriet was deeply uncomfortable in her body at the moment. She was sweaty, she was hot, and she had long hair which was sticking to her. Thank goodness for the pool. She knew she had to wait it out, but that didn't helped how deeply uncomfortable it was to have her hormones explode like fireworks in her body, her emotions running along with it and lasting just as long. But the heat, the heat was always present.

_Nothing, _she mused. _not even when I've been searching for it my whole life. _Harriet leant her head against the wave wall and sighed, allowing her shoulders to droop. _All my travels, all my explorations of the world, seeking, searching, finding it. I've always been looking. It's been so **frustrating **-_

**_Tasty birdies..._**

_They were tasty. ...It's been the source of my total agony. Every day apart from it I've felt like I'm going to split apart. I can only do my best - balance is so difficult to achieve without it. My emotions are so easily triggered - anything can make me feel nauseous, or dizzy. Just shock alone can make me cry - what the heck?_

Harriet sighed, rolling her head to the side, still on the wall.

_I'll find it one day. I have to._

The voice was quiet, but she felt the support she had. She closed her eyes and thanked herself for her dual nature. One day she would become one again.

She couldn't decide if she was strong or if she was weak. Strong, for surviving this long without it, or weak for how easily she felt like she could be crushed. It was a paradox Harriet didn't know what to make of. But all she knew was when it was returned to her she would be whole again, and she would be one.

Revenge had never been a part of her ideas - the witch who cursed her to this, well, she just never had those thoughts. Not once. She'd felt angry towards her, but she had just been doing her job. And she would find what was hers - it was always meant to be that way. That which is yours cannot truly be taken from you. And that was what kept Harriet going for all these years she'd been alive. She could sense it - distantly. She knew it was there. She knew it existed. If she could scour the worlds and look under every rock and crevice for it, she would. She could, but it was more likely people had it.

Harriet sighed, rolling her head the other way.

_People._ She mused.

* * *

Harriet climbed the rocks to the cave entrance and hopped inside, carrying a skin of water with her. The last time she'd checked their one needed refilling soon.

"Pan," She greeted pleasantly. "How was your time? ...I mean," She put down the skin after taking a sip, noticing how he was staring at her. "without me?" She clarified. Her statement came only from the intention of being explicit. She wanted to be as specific as possible in her question so that he would know exactly what she was asking, and then she wouldn't get wrong information and insult them both by wasting both their times simply because she didn't expend enough effort into asking the question she wanted to know correctly.

Harriet's heat was bad enough on its own. What made it worse, was Pan's kiss. He tried to kiss her often, and when she let him, it was so hot to be under. During heat those thoughts plagued her, they took her and wouldn't let her go. It was frightening. For how easily Harriet had figured out how to expel other thoughts from her mind or exorcise emotions from her heart, during heat she had the most trouble getting rid of the thoughts of Pan's kiss and tongue.

So when he tried to kiss her later that night, and many times after, she swerved away from him or got up and walked to the other side of the cave.


	61. S3E10

She was in his lap, his hand touching her lower back over and over and she mewlingly kept her mouth open for his kiss out of the feeling of when he touched her back. He pressed her against him hard, touching her hair in the way she liked, her arms around him. Gosh, this was so difficult, she thought. Pulling away was so hard. He parted from her, both their mouths wet. He tried to go into her neck, his hand that was on her back sliding around her waist to hold her tighter to him. Without the weight on the pleasure spot on her back Harriet's mind was freed - if only he hadn't embraced her instead, then she would have been able to slip out like a seal into the ocean.

He pressed his face against the side of her neck, just panting and she did the same over the top of his head, fingers threaded in his hair.

"Pan," was all she needed to say and he knew she wanted him to let her go. He did so and she slipped off him more clumsily than a seal would slip into an ocean, and just crawled away onto the furs before curling up. Pan watched her. Seeing her crawl away from him, and to the furs even - it was like a sirens pull. He forced himself to resist for her sake. But his body moved on his own and in a second he was beside her. Thankfully, he was not ravishing her when she did not want it. He didn't want to make her unhappy.

He lay on his back. She was being distant, he felt. Ever since she came back from wherever she went every now and then, she'd been distant. He sighed and scratched his head before rolling over to prop himself up on his elbow, intending to ask what was the matter and if he perhaps offended her. Just as he almost did so she turned from his advance, expecting kisses again (sometimes he was playful like that), just being direct with him,

"It's the heat, Pan."

"Sorry?"

She looked at him torturedly from her side. She sat up quickly.

"It's the heat and the tongues and the memory, Pan. Peter. I have such a good memory, and when I go into heat all our kisses play over in my mind like it's happening all over again. I'm not in my body anymore, I'm back here with you when you're kissing me and touching me."

"And Pan," She was bothered by the whole thing. "I can't mate until I'm whole again." He couldn't say anything. She looked at him fleetingly. "If I mate before I'm whole, I become trapped, a prisoner and a slave to whoever mated me, like my mother. The bandits, one of them mated to her while she was parted from her treasure, tricked out of it by the sea goddess Ursula, and she became bound to him, but lower than him. She became stuck in the form that he mated her in. Black hair, red skin. She was a real beauty. If the same were to happen to me the same thing would happen. I would be a prisoner forever. I cannot, and _will not _mate to you before then." She glared at him, panting.

He looked at her for a while.

"I'm sorry that that happened to your mother. Happened to you."

Harriet calmed and shrugged, pushing some of her hair out of her face.

"We have all eternity. Time does not pass for us like it does for you. ...Events are not as significant."

Pan thought about all of this.

"Harriet, I'm sorry."

She looked at him.

"Why?"

"Because you've gone through so much pain."

"What's pain but a sensation? Emotional pain, oh yes, you can say that." She looked away disinterestedly. "But so has everyone."


	62. S3E11

Some people are probably wondering what Regina's doing there. It will be explained here. Everything explains itself in this story, remember.

* * *

"What are you doing here?"

Regina paused, body surrounded by ferns. It annoyed her so much that so much plant life was ... actually touching her.

Regina raised her hands with a sardonic look.

"I'm lost."

Hook shifted his weight then turned back to his camp, the hook catching Regina's eye. His makeshift camp was modest and to be honest, he didn't want guests.

"What are you doing here?" Regina asked in return. She was walking, doing Pan's errand, when she accidentally came across this man's camp. He looked like a pirate. Was he here by accident like herself?

Hook walked to a fallen tree where he had a small firepit by and pulled on his long black trench coat, eyeing the woman. He didn't want to tell her too much - about himself, his work, etc.

"I work here." He said eventually.

Regina nodded, tsking in the side of her mouth, then looked back at Hook.

"How well do you know the area? I'm trying to find something - Pan gave me a direction but I think I took the wrong turn."

"Well where are you going?"

"I don't know." Regina said in displeasure. "I only know the directions. But I think I got mixed up."

Hook started chuckling.

"You don't know where you're going and you don't know where you are. You're screwed."

Regina sneered.

"Well I don't exact want to be here. This is just a dream. I'm going home as soon as I wake up."

"Right." Hook scoffed.

Regina heard a noise that sounded like a cry, far off into the woods. Spooked out, she turned to it, raising her hand ready to perform magic.

"Did you hear that?"

"Yes." Hook said, calm in the face of her fear.

"What is it?" Regina said quickly. "I keep hearing it wherever I go."

Hook looked unimpressedly towards what she was scared of.

"They're just the shadows." He said before turning back to his camp. "Well you don't know where you're going or how to get there, you may as well take a rest."

Regina flicked some hair out of her face haughtily.

"Thanks."

* * *

"Why is she here?" Harriet asked, crouching next to Pan behind some bushes, unseen.

Pan looked at her and smirked devilishly.

"You'll see. She's here for a good reason."

Harriet looked out.

"And Hook? Was there a reason for my taking his memories?"

He put his arm around her and drew her closer until she was against his side.

"It's so you'll become Tigerlily now. To the world."

"Who cares? Harriet - Tigerlily? What's the difference?"

"You do not want fame?"

"No." She blinked while gazing out. "Some would argue I'm already famous." She mused. To a dead world, anyway.

He put his forehead on the side of her head.

"This way you'll be infamous. Tigerlily - part of Neverland."

She looked at him.

"What's the point? Whether I'm known or not?"

"You'll be immortal. You can't kill an idea."

"Well whether or not the idea's there, I'll live on. What does it matter to you, Pan?" She asked. "Why is this important to you?"

"... I wanted to keep you with me. Pan and Tigerlily. Your original name. The two of us, partners in crime. Young and immortal, forever."

She stared at him for a long time. None of it made any logical sense, but then the possibility occurred to her that this might make him happy, then everything made sense.

"Alright." She stared forward. "If it makes you happy." He kissed her cheek. She smiled. "Just don't hurt anyone."

"Not without just cause."


End file.
